Unravelling Quinn Fabray
by DefyingGravity1402
Summary: Quinn moves to New York for the summer and re-evaluates her life and relationships. (Quintanna) Spoilers up to the end of season 4. This will be a multi-chapter story and it's my first one so please be gentle with me! Rated M for later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One: The decision**

As Quinn Fabray drew her car to a stop outside the dilapidated brick apartment building she took a deep, shaking breath and told herself that she had one last chance to chicken out, turn her car around and hightail it back to Lima for summer vacation. Indeed, she'd almost done exactly that a half dozen times on the journey from New Haven to New York already, and in the three weeks since Rachel had broached the idea during their scheduled weekly Skype session, Quinn had changed her mind more times than she could count.

_She'd been lying on her stomach on her bed with her laptop propped up on her psychology textbook, listening to Rachel enthuse about her upcoming rehearsals for her Broadway debut in the fall, and feeling more and more despondent about her own (lack of) summer plans. She may have been estranged from her father but, thanks to her Mom's hot-shot divorce lawyer, he was still footing the considerable bill for her ivy-league education. Unfortunately, that didn't include him forking out the cash for her to stay in New Haven for the summer and, since she had no immediate job prospects, she was doomed to a lonely two months in Lima, whilst all her friends got on with their exciting plans elsewhere. Only Finn and Puck would be in Lima along with her and Quinn wasn't especially enamoured with the idea of hanging out with either one of them._

_Eventually, Rachel realized that Quinn had stopped "hmmming" and"uh-huhing" during the relevant intervals and, with only slight petulance over Quinn's apparent lack of interest in her burgeoning career, Rachel had asked her what was wrong. When Quinn confessed that she felt like a Lima loser, heading back home for the summer with no plans and no money, the solution was obvious to the brunette._

_"Come and stay with us!" she had squealed excitedly, causing Quinn to wince as the shrill delight of Rachel's voice caused a feedback whine in her speaker. "We've got the room and I know you'll find a summer job, I can help you – there might be something you could do at the theater…" She grinned and bounced up and down like an animated six year old and began a long monologue detailing all the fun they would have, until Quinn began to suspect that she wasn't going to get a say in this at all. After ten minutes of Rachel trying to sell her on the virtues of a summer in the city, Quinn was beginning to agree that it just might be the answer to her problem. She'd tuned out of the brunette's monologue a little when Rachel began to list all the fantastic places that she, Rachel Berry, now a bona-fide, true New Yorker after ten months in the city, just had to take Quinn, but in truth, she had been starting to feel quite excited about the prospect, and Rachel's infectious enthusiasm was rubbing off on her, when… _

_"Even if you don't get a job right away, Santana freeloads on us half the time so what's one more?" Rachel had commented, and Quinn came back down to earth with a bump. _

_Santana. One word that brought up a maelstrom of feelings and memories that made Quinn's heart beat faster, her palms clammy, and her stomach twist uncomfortably. How could she have forgotten that Santana would be there too? She'd let herself get carried away with the proposal, and now that Rachel had got the idea fixed into her head, she'd be near-impossible to dissuade. If she said no, Rachel would want to know why, and she was already suspicious about the fact that Quinn and Santana had been so close at the wedding and had barely spoken since. Quinn swore that the girl was part blood-hound from the way she'd harangued her about her sudden coolness towards Santana, and from the brief, somewhat forced conversations she had shared with her former best-frenemy during the past few months, she knew that Santana was receiving the same treatment._

_In the end she'd promised to think about it, and after two weeks of spending an inordinate amount of the time she should have been devoting to studying for finals racking her brains to come up with a good reason to turn down the offer, she'd finally relented, with the proviso that Rachel clear it with Santana and Kurt. Rachel had reported back the following day that the Berry-Hummel-Lopez household was collectively thrilled with the idea of a new roommate and the matter was settled._

_The decision being made had done little to lessen Quinn's anxiety though, and she'd struggled through several sleepless nights which led to her roommate yelling at her at four a.m. and stomping off to find a quiet spot on one of their neighbor's floors. The pinnacle of Quinn's panic had hit her like a tidal wave in the middle of her American Government final, she'd finished the ridiculously easy paper in less than an hour and was left with nothing to do but stare at the hands on the clock move torturously slowly and torment herself with self-doubt._

_She'd vacillated between acceptance – Santana had said she was okay with the visit after all, and pure, unadulterated terror – what if Rachel took one look at her face when she saw the Latina and realised the terrible truth? Quinn's heart was pounding and the blood rushing in her ears was so loud it drowned out the sound of her classmates furiously scribbling answers into the examination booklets. She'd clasped her shaking fingers together and willed herself not to have a panic attack. Maybe she could tell Rachel she was sick, or say that she'd gotten into an accident? Maybe she should really get into an accident – she could live with a broken arm or leg for the summer, couldn't she?_

_In the end, of course, she'd done none of those things. She'd made it through the exam, returned to her dorm room and packed up the rest of her belongings into her car, then with one last stern word with herself about pulling herself together, she'd turned the ignition key and gotten underway. _

And now hear she was, checking her hair and make up in the rear-view mirror and trying to convince herself that she was just trying to make herself look presentable for her new roommates.

Swallowing hard, she picked up her cell phone and typed with shaky fingers: _I'm outside_. She hovered over the send button for a few moments before plucking up the courage to once and for all commit herself to the inevitable.

Moments later, as she stood on the sidewalk and fought valiantly to keep her knees from trembling, the door to the apartment block flew open and hurricane Rachel barrelled into her full force, Quinn's hip jarring painfully against her car door. Things sure had changed since the days when the only interactions she had with Rachel Berry involved slushie facials or distasteful glares.

"Hey, Rach," Quinn laughed, returning the hug and being forcibly reminded of an excitable chocolate Labrador puppy as Rachel literally jumped up and down with delight.

When Rachel finally let her go, Quinn smoothed her pale yellow sundress and tucked a stray strand of honey-blonde hair behind her ear. She allowed Rachel to take her by the hand and pull her towards the apartment, fumbling with her keys to remote-lock her car, as Rachel promised breathlessly to help her bring in her stuff later.

Once in the elevator, Rachel's mood abruptly changed and she pouted guiltily at Quinn through long, dark lashes.

"I have a confession to make," she said, talking slowly and calmly, as though Quinn were a particularly skittish wild animal. "I may have told a teeny-tiny lie."

Quinn eyed her warily but remained silent. Rachel seemed to take this as a good sign and her shoulders relaxed a little.

"I may have embellished slightly during our last conversation," Rachel admitted.

"Embellished how?" Quinn felt a tingle of anxiety and surreptitiously wiped her damp hands on the skirt of her dress.

"Um, I kind of… well I… I mean… I didn't tell Santana you were coming." The last part of Rachel's statement came out in a rush. "Don't be mad at me," she continued, without giving Quinn an opportunity to do more than glare at her murderously, "but Kurt and I talked it over and we agreed that whatever silly fight you two had, you just need to thrash it out and get over it, because frankly, Santana's been even more unbearable than ever recently, Kurt and I are worried about the both of you and I can't afford to get worry lines now that I'm a working actress." She offered Quinn a contrite smile that Quinn didn't quite believe.

A myriad of thoughts ran through Quinn's mind in a jumble – how to kill Rachel and make it look like an accident, how not to throw up right there in the elevator, what to say to Santana, what not to say to Santana, what Santana might say to her, what if she just got out of the elevator, got back in her car and didn't stop driving until she got to Mexico…?

"Quinn?" Rachel was watching her warily and Quinn realised that the expression on her face must have been what her friends jokingly referred to as scary-Quinn. She slumped against the back wall of the elevator and resigned herself to her fate.

"It's okay, Rachel," she managed to say, consciously telling herself to relax her hands which she'd balled into fists at her sides.

Rachel instantly lightened up and flashed her mega-watt smile again, leaving Quinn with the distinct impression she'd just been played.

The elevator dinged and it took every ounce of Quinn's willpower to force her feet to move and follow a skipping Rachel along the corridor to the loft.

By the time she stepped through the door, Rachel was already dancing around the furniture, calling out to Kurt disappearing in the direction of the closed drapes that separated off one of the sleeping areas.

"Kurt, Santana! Look who's come to stay!" Rachel called out merrily, spinning in a circle. Kurt stepped out of the bathroom behind her and beamed at Quinn, bounding across the room to give her a hug. It may have been Quinn's imagination but he seemed to squeeze her a little longer than necessary and she was sure she felt a reassuring little pat on her shoulder. She often wondered if Kurt might be somewhat more intuitive than people gave him credit for. Anyway, she was grateful for the support.

"Blaine will be here for a visit next week after school gets out," Kurt told her, his blue eyes sparkling. "We're going to have a full house."

Quinn smiled warmly. She liked Blaine, although she'd never been especially close to him in high school. She opened her mouth to respond to Kurt but stopped in her tracks as an angry screech came from the curtained-off area at the far end of the loft.

"What the hell, Berry? Why are you jumping around like a demented chipmunk? I thought I made it quite clear after the last time that Santana does not play well with others if I do not get my beauty sleep!"

Rachel came skittering out from behind the curtain so quickly that Quinn thought she was being chased. This proved to be true moments later when a dishevelled and distinctly unimpressed Santana came barrelling out full force, eyes flashing venomously.

She skidded to a halt when she saw the blonde standing in the middle of her apartment. Quinn sub-consciously wrapped her arms around her middle and forced a nervous smile.

"Hi Santana," she said tentatively.

"Quinn's here for the summer," Rachel supplied helpfully, from her position in the dining area, where she was hiding behind Kurt. Despite her nerves, the notion of anyone attempting to use Kurt Hummel as a human shield struck Quinn as highly amusing and she bit her lower lip as she tried unsuccessfully to suppress a giggle.

When Quinn's hazel eyes fixed on Santana again, the dark-haired girl was staring back at her with an inscrutable expression in her dark eyes. There was a highly-charged moment of silence, where Quinn felt sure that the others must be able to hear her heart pounding traitorously in her chest.

Then Santana shrugged nonchalantly, her eyes casting from Quinn's face all the way down to her freshly pedicured toes, a tiny smile playing in the corner of her mouth. "Sure, hi, Q." Then she turned her gaze to Kurt and Rachel. "It's fine with me, but one of you gets to share with her, I'm not giving up my bed." And with that, Santana spun around, mahogany hair flying out in a cloud around her head, and disappeared, back in the direction of her bed.

Quinn still felt like her knees were going to give way, but the pounding in her chest slowed to a bearable speed. She swallowed hard and tried her best to look disaffected but two pairs of eyes were fixed on her curiously.

"Um, I n-need to use the b-bathroom," she stammered, retreating quickly and locking the door securely behind her. Once inside, she ran her hands through her hair and studied herself in the mirror. Her pupils were dilated and her cheeks flushed. Her mind was spinning but one thought kept pushing to the forefront – Santana had smiled at her, Santana had said it was fine for her to stay.

Suddenly, all the panicking and freaking out Quinn had been doing over the last few weeks seemed ridiculous to her. She smiled to herself as she thought about the glint she'd seen in Santana's dark eyes as they'd swept over Quinn's figure. Maybe things had been awkward since them since _that night_ but that didn't mean they had to stay that way. And maybe Quinn didn't know exactly where things were headed with Santana but she did know one thing for sure – Santana had been checking her out… and Quinn had liked it.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Author's Note: Thank you so much to those of you who've commented on my story so far, it means a lot. I'm working on chapter four at the moment, so here's chapter two (chapter three will follow shortly), then after that you'll have to be patient with me as I'll probably only be able to update every few days... hope you continue to enjoy the story!**_

**Chapter Two: New York State of Mind**

Quinn was brought rudely out of her reverie by a furious banging on the bathroom door.

"Quinn, did you drown in there?" Rachel demanded, unleashing another volley of pounding that caused Quinn to rush for the door before she invoked the wrath of Santana again. She took a deep breath and hoped that she looked natural before turning the catch and pulling the door towards her. Rachel stumbled in and Quinn staggered backwards against her weight.

She grabbed Rachel's forearms to steady her then smiled sweetly and side-stepped around her, catching Kurt's amused smirk from his vantage point in the living area out of the corner of her eye.

She looked around at the huge open-plan loft curiously. She'd seen it before but she'd barely had chance to take it all in before Rachel had dragged her off to NYADA, desperate to show off the school, and by the time they'd gotten home that night it was so late that they'd all just crashed. She'd taken the first train back to Connecticut in the morning to get back in time for her first class. And Santana hadn't been living here then, so things had changed a bit. Quinn could see evidence of all three personalities in the décor and it made her smile. The place felt homely, far more so than her childhood home ever had, and she began to feel confident that she'd made the right decision not to go home to Lima.

Rachel was anxious to get Quinn unpacked so she could start playing tour guide, so Kurt was roped in to help fetch and carry things from the car. Rachel grumbled endlessly about the lack of help from Santana but after innumerable trips they were done and everything Quinn owned lay in a heap on the living area floor. Rachel had magnanimously (as she was quick to point out) cleared some closet space for Quinn, but after much discussion it was decided that the only option for Quinn's multitude of boxes of books was to stack them on the floor by the wall.

Santana emerged just as they were finishing up and, from the smirk on her lips, Quinn suspected that it was not at all coincidental.

"So, are you sleeping with Berry or Lady Hummel?" Santana queried pointedly as she sat on the kitchen counter eating a piece of toast, ignoring Rachel's glares and pleas for her to please find a more appropriate place to sit.

"Um, I guess I'll take the couch," Quinn said, her cheeks coloring slightly. "Blaine's here next week so Kurt's bed will be um… occupied… and Rachel needs her rest for her big Broadway debut."

Santana chuckled to herself and Quinn realized that she was being teased.

"Don't pay any attention to Santana," Rachel chastised. "She doesn't begin to become anything like human until at least three in the afternoon these days. There's no point engaging with her until then." She turned away from Santana and rolled her eyes, and Quinn had to fake a coughing fit to cover up the giggle that escaped her lips when Santana made a particularly rude gesture behind the other girl's back.

"Bite me, Berry," Santana muttered, but her eyes were playful.

"You wish," Rachel shot back. Quinn felt a pang of loneliness to see that her friends had all become so close whilst she'd been trying to forge a new life for herself at Yale. Sure, she'd made some friends, and been on a few dates, but it was all superficial and she hadn't found anybody worthy of letting her barriers down for so far. Letting people in didn't come easy to Quinn, but this group of people had seen her at her best and her worst and they still wanted her in their lives. That meant a lot to her.

Feeling like she'd caught some of Rachel's earlier energy and enthusiasm, Quinn suddenly jumped to her feet and smoothed the wrinkles from her dress, and announced that she was now ready for the Rachel Berry New York tour.

Santana snorted and shook her head.

"You're going to regret that, Blondie," she sing-songed, before swinging her long legs, leaping lightly down from the counter top and stalking off in the direction of the bathroom.

Five long hours later, Santana's prediction had been proven accurate. Quinn's feet hurt, her back hurt, and the dust and fumes from the traffic were beginning to make her contact lenses irritate her eyes. She'd been to Times Square, received a guided (and detailed) tour of the outside of several Broadway and off-Broadway theaters, and visited a tiny diner somewhere in mid-town where Rachel swore blind she'd seen Robert Downey Junior a week earlier. As she trailed behind Rachel on the fifteen block hike up to Tiffany's, Quinn began to question exactly what Rachel felt constituted the "real" New York. So far, as interesting as everything was, Rachel had only taken her to the regular tourist traps. What was worse was she insisted on them walking everywhere so that Quinn could see the city.

Now, Quinn was tired, hungry, and dirty, and seriously regretting ever having accepted Rachel's offer to play tour guide. The only things that kept her from snapping at the brunette were Rachel's obvious child-like delight at showing Quinn her favorite sights, and the knowledge that Rachel had an evening rehearsal so their tour was coming to an end anyway. She'd also convinced Rachel to stop off in a bar for a short time, mostly so that she could rest her aching feet, but she'd also made good use of her fake ID to order herself a Manhattan – well they were in Manhattan after all and it really did help to take the edge off.

Quinn knew she had the next two months to explore the city so she could afford to indulge Rachel just this once. She'd clocked a couple of interesting looking second-hand bookstores that she planned to return to as soon as Rachel let her off the leash.

When the girls arrived back at the loft, Kurt was out at a birthday dinner for a friend of his, and Santana was nowhere to be seen. Rachel had taken one look at the clock, squealed, and dived for the bathroom to take a shower. On the subway ride back to the loft, Rachel had apologised profusely for leaving Quinn on her own on her first night in New York.

_"Sometimes a young Broadway ingénue just has to make sacrifices," she'd explained, and then glared huffily when Quinn dissolved into giggles._

_Quinn had reassured her that she'd be fine._

_"I just want to get an early night," she'd said truthfully. "I haven't been sleeping too well lately." Luckily, Rachel accepted her comment at face value and didn't question what had been keeping her friend up at night._

Quinn settled down on the couch with her book and by the time Rachel emerged from the shower, she was so engrossed in the plot that her friend's voice made her jump.

"I brought you some blankets," Rachel was saying when Quinn looked up from the page. By the look on Rachel's face, she'd said it at least once already. Quinn accepted them with an apologetic smile and luckily Rachel was in too much of a hurry to get into a sulk about Quinn ignoring her.

She'd perfected the art of drowning out the world by getting lost in a book, way back in Sophomore year in Glee Club, telling herself she was using it to avoid getting caught up in the inane lives of her fellow Glee Clubbers, but somewhere along the way she'd realised that she really did love to read. Other people's lives always seemed somehow preferable to her own, even when she'd been at the very top of the high school pecking order.

"Kurt and I are usually pretty quiet when we come in, but Santana is… well, Santana," Rachel explained with an apologetic shrug.

Quinn nodded knowingly.

"The pizza menu's on the fridge," Rachel continued, as she straightened her dress and searched for her keys. She paused by the front door. "Are you sure there's nothing else you need?"

"I'll be fine," Quinn assured her with a grin. "Just go, break a leg, okay!"

And with that, Hurricane Rachel swept out of the building, humming a tune that Quinn didn't recognise at a somewhat irritatingly loud volume. Quinn shook her head and sighed; then she picked up her cosmetics bag and rummaged in a box she hadn't yet unpacked to find some pajamas before heading for a long overdue shower.

Thirty minutes later, Quinn emerged with dripping hair and aching rather than throbbing muscles. She searched her bag for the glasses she almost never wore, except for reading before she went to sleep. Her eyes were still scratchy from traffic pollution and lack of sleep over the last few days.

She was past the point of hunger but she shuffled into the kitchen and was studying the pizza menu absently, when a noise behind her suddenly made her acutely aware that she wasn't alone.

She turned with a start to see Santana emerging from her sleeping area, and instantly cursed under her breath as Santana took in her less than pristine appearance. Even at teenage sleepovers, Quinn had always dressed immaculately, choosing pretty cotton pajamas and choosing a night of blurred vision and vanity over admitting she needed her glasses. Santana had never seen her wearing slouchy sweats and glasses before, and Quinn was bashfully aware that the wet patches on her cream-colored vest from her dripping hair verged on indecent.

Santana on the other hand was wearing the shortest gold shorts Quinn had ever seen, coupled with a flowing black off the shoulder top that seemed to accentuate all of her impressive curves. Her sandals were delicate and stiletto-heeled, and her hair was lose and flowing down her back in soft waves.

"Rachel said you were at work tonight," Quinn said stupidly, as she crossed her arms across her chest in a vain attempt to regain a shred of modesty.

"I'm going now," Santana explained, a soft smile playing on her lips. "I'd invite you but, well, you're not really dressed for it."

Quinn flushed scarlet and prayed for the floor to swallow her.

"I came home to change while you were in the shower," Santana continued, as she checked her lipstick in a tiny compact mirror that she'd somehow managed to extract from a pocket in her shorts. "I called to you, but I guess you didn't hear me." She shrugged and, satisfied with her appearance, tucked the mirror away. "Gotta go, don't wait up," she said breezily and skipped lightly to the door. Then she paused and bounded back over to where Quinn still stood with her arms still folded over her chest. With gentle fingers she reached out a tucked Quinn's damp hair behind her ear; then she leaned forwards and brushed her lips nonchalantly against Quinn's cheek.

"I love the glasses, Q, they're cute," she said, wrinkling her nose, in a way Quinn guessed was meant to convince her that she was teasing rather than mocking her.

Then she was gone and Quinn was left to agonise over the brief exchange, all thoughts of an early night suddenly out of the window. Every time that Quinn thought she had her feelings towards Santana all rationalised out, she wound up right back where she started and more confused than ever. She touched the spot where Santana's lips had grazed her cheek thoughtfully, revelling in the memory of the caress. She didn't know why Santana had such a hold over her, but she knew one thing for sure… there was no way she could continue to fight it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note - Thank you for all the lovely reviews so far. As promised, here is chapter three, and I should be able to get chapter four up before the weekend!  
Apologies for any typos, if I spot any I'll edit them out!**

**Chapter Three – Perchance to Dream**

_The first kiss had been deceptively gentle. Their lips brushed just barely and Quinn felt the tingles all the way down to her toes. She'd been the one to instigate it, and she was the one to deepen it, stroking those impossibly soft lips with her tongue until they parted willingly and allowed her to continue her explorations. She'd groaned as Santana's tongue duelled with her own whilst strong fingers caressed the sensitive nape of her neck._

_She hadn't been aware she'd been moving until she felt the soft satin of the comforter against the back of her calves. She fell backwards onto the bed taking Santana with her, even as Santana's hands began to trail up her thighs under her dress._

_"I want you…" Quinn had murmured breathlessly, feeling desire pooling hot and low in her belly…_

She awoke with a start, breathing hard and tingling from head to toe. The dream lingered with her for a few delicious seconds before she became painfully aware of the lumpy cushions pressing against her lower back. The apartment was dark and her vision was slightly blurred. She was sure she'd fallen asleep reading, which meant someone must have removed her glasses and turned off the light. Quinn groped on the coffee table to find her cell phone and squinted against the bright light of the display as she checked the time. It was a little after three a.m.

Groaning, she shifted against the pillows, trying to get comfortable but it was no use. The dull ache in her muscles was quickly becoming a throbbing again. She'd known she was overdoing it when she'd insisted on carrying the heaviest boxes of books from her car into the apartment, but she'd been determined not to admit that she needed help. Then, she'd allowed Rachel to take her on a five hour trek through Manhattan. She sat up with a wince, as the throbbing became a hot poker shooting the length of her spine. She held her breath for a second until the pain began to lessen. Ordinarily, she'd take a long, hot shower to soothe her discomfort but she'd heard how much noise the aging pipes in the loft made during her earlier shower, and was sure her new roommates wouldn't thank her for waking them in the middle of the night.

She dug through her bag, looking for the bottle of prescription painkillers she hated to take because they made her sluggish and groggy. Half-dragging herself into the kitchen, Quinn managed to locate a bottle of water in the fridge. The refrigerator light was strangely soothing, and Quinn left the door open a crack whilst she tried to figure out how to open the water bottle and the medication whilst keeping her grip on the kitchen counter.

A soft swishing sound distracted her and she saw the curtains around Santana's sleeping area part. The brunette yawned and blinked against the light from the fridge, frowning at Quinn's hunched posture and vice-like grip on the counter.

"What are you doing?" Santana asked bluntly, padding barefoot into the kitchen. She took the bottle of painkillers from Quinn's hand and glanced at the label with a low whistle. "These are good, Q, you've been holding out on me," she joked, but her eyes were concerned as she opened the bottle and popped two of the tablets into Quinn's mouth. She lifted the bottle of water to Quinn's lips.

Swallowing hard, Quinn smiled gratefully but inside she was kicking herself. Throughout their high school cheerleading careers, Quinn had fought not to show her weaknesses to anyone. That had failed spectacularly following her ill-advised liaison with Puck, and his empty promises regarding birth control. She'd fought her way back to the top again, only to melt down completely at the end of her junior year. And then, just as she was starting to get back on track, boom – she'd been hit by a truck. She'd always hated to be dependent on anyone, yet here she was again, barely able to stand, and reliant on the one person she most wanted to seem strong for to help her back to the couch.

As Santana eased her down onto the cushions she remained unusually quiet. She actually opened her mouth a couple of times before she finally spoke.

"I forgot, I'm sorry – I shouldn't have guilted you into sleeping on the couch."

Despite her discomfort, both physical and psychological, Quinn couldn't let that one pass without comment. She raised her eyebrows and smirked.

"Santana Lopez, did I just hear the 's' word come out of your mouth?" she mocked, ignoring the brunette's scowl in response. "I didn't know you had it in you." She giggled and then winced.

Santana shot her a look that plainly said _serves you right_.

"I thought you were better," she said, in an almost accusatory tone.

"I am mostly," Quinn explained. "I think sitting through a two hour exam followed by a two hour drive, then moving all my stuff," she gestured to the boxes of books stacked neatly against the wall, "and the Rachel Berry spectacular tour of New York City, compounded by the most uncomfortable couch in the world was just a little much today."

"Did she give you that BS about seeing Robert Downey Junior last week?" Santana asked with a low chuckle, "'cause Kurt was with her and he swears blind that she must have been hallucinating."

"Who ever would have thought that Santana Lopez and Rachel Berry would've ended up roommates," Quinn mused thoughtfully. "I think you hated her more than I did in high school – and she stole my boyfriend… twice! It seems like a million years ago."

Santana shrugged. "Well, she's still pretty annoying, but she's like a stray puppy that you can't quite bring yourself to get rid of."

"A Labrador," Quinn murmured, remembering her thoughts from the previous morning.

"Huh?" Santana was confused, not having been a party to Quinn's inner-monologue. Quinn simply smiled and shrugged it off. The painkiller was starting to take effect and she felt extremely mellow, but a little chilly.

"I'm cold," she announced. Santana looked at her quizzically. Uh-oh, Quinn remembered the other reason she didn't like to take her painkillers, they made her unfailingly honest, especially when coupled with sleep deprivation. Quinn had a very low tolerance for medication, and for alcohol for that matter (um, how many hours was it since she'd drunk the cocktail? The big red warning label of the prescription bottle clearly warned against drinking whilst taking the medication).

She did not want to have a conversation with Santana Lopez in the middle of the night whilst under the influence of strong prescription drugs. She wasn't even ready to have a conversation with Santana in broad daylight with all her faculties just yet, even if a large part of her brain currently wanted nothing more than to tell Santana that she had a beautiful mouth... oh crap, was she staring at Santana's mouth?

Quinn feigned a yawn. "I'm sorry, San, I'm talking crazy – I haven't been sleeping too well… um, studying for finals I mean… no real reason… but anyway… and it's the middle of the night so I'm sure you're tired… but, why were you up? Did I wake you? I hope I didn't wake you, but I haven't really been sleeping…"

She was silenced by Santana's hand covering her mouth. "Q, you're making almost no sense, and as fun as this conversation is, I think we both need some sleep, 'cause right now you're sounding scarily like Berry."

Santana stood up and held out her hands. Quinn looked at them in confusion.

"What are you doing?"

"You can't sleep on the couch," explained Santana, speaking slowly and clearly as though she were talking to a three year old. "Not tonight at least. Maybe Berry will let you share her bed from tomorrow, but tonight I'll take the couch and you can have my bed."

"Your bed?" Quinn shook her head slightly, as the grogginess of the medication started to kick in. "But you'll be in your bed."

Santana sighed, apparently giving conversation with Quinn up as a lost cause. Still, she took Quinn's hands and pulled her to her feet.

"Can you walk?" Quinn nodded and allowed Santana to lead her into her 'room' and lay her down on a blissfully lump-free mattress. The pillow smelled like Santana, Quinn thought happily, then panicked because she wasn't sure if she had said that out loud.

If she had, Santana was giving nothing away from her expression. She simply smoothed the blankets over Quinn, and brushed a few strands of blonde hair out of Quinn's eyes. She disappeared for a moment and Quinn was vaguely aware of her coming back and setting a bottle of water onto the nightstand. Then she drifted back to sleep.

When Quinn next woke up it was light outside. Santana's alarm clock indicated that she'd slept until almost noon, something she never usually did. She stretched tentatively but other than a few twinges she felt a lot better than she had the previous night… until she remembered where she was and the conversation that had preceded it. She buried her head in the pillow and groaned.

She desperately wanted to be cool, calm, and collected in front of Santana, but so far she'd managed tongue-tied, geeky, and intoxicated. She still hadn't made her mind up what she wanted from Santana, she wasn't ready to confess her undying love or anything, but despite her flippancy on the night of the wedding, she couldn't quite bring herself to view their _experiment_ as a definite one (or more accurately three) time thing.

She'd replayed that night in her mind so many times, but it was only now that a comment Santana had made lodged itself firmly at the forefront of her memory.

_"Look, you don't have to worry, I'm not gonna show up at your house with a U-Haul…"_

Oh God. Santana might have made good on the promise, but just twenty four hours early she, Quinn, had done pretty much exactly that - showing up here with her worldly goods in the back of her car and, as far as Santana was concerned, completely unannounced. God only knew what Santana must be thinking.

Quinn closed her eyes and wondered how on earth she managed to get into these situations where it seemed nothing was within her control.

Sooner or later, she was going to have to talk to Santana – she knew that logically, but she also knew that she was not ready yet. This was too important to screw up, and whether she liked to admit it or not, Quinn Fabray definitely had a habit of screwing up the important things.

But Rachel Berry was not the only actress to come out of William McKinley High School. Quinn had acted her way through most of her high school career – perfecting (well, almost) the roles of head cheerleader, dutiful daughter, the girlfriend of the quarterback, the popular girl… so what was a little more acting to her? The next few days and weeks were sure to be a breeze… right?


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: Again, thank you for all your comments, I hope you're still enjoying the story. I wasn't going to post this chapter until tomorrow, but here it is!**

**Chapter Four: No Place Like Home**

When Quinn finally plucked up the courage to emerge from Santana's sleeping area with tousled hair and bare feet, the apartment was quiet. Given that none of her new roommates had a propensity towards silence Quinn initially thought she was alone, but then she spotted Kurt and Rachel sitting in the kitchen, wearing matching, somewhat perturbed expressions. The reason for their uncharacteristic laconism was revealed as she padded through the living area.

Somehow, Santana had managed to remain asleep on the torturous couch, but even unconscious her 'don't mess with me' face was evident. Quinn couldn't help but chuckle under her breath as Rachel grabbed her by the arm and literally dragged her into the kitchen.

Two pairs of eyes fixed on her expectantly. Quinn feigned innocence.

"What?" she asked lightly, absently playing with a strand of her hair by twirling it around her fingers.

"Don't you 'what' us, Quinn Fabray," hissed Rachel, in an exaggerated stage-whisper. "Why is Santana asleep on our couch, and why were you in her bed? I should have been practicing my vocal warm up exercises for the past hour but Santana woke up just long enough to make a not so veiled threat about ripping out my vocal chords if I disturbed either of you."

"And the world would thank me for it," grumbled Santana, stirring on the couch grumpily. She sat up and stretched, unabashed about the way her tight tank top rode up, revealing several inches of toned and tanned abs. Quinn felt a rush of heat across her chest and neck, and her cheeks burned. She quickly shook her hair forward to cover the tell-tale red blotches, focussing on keeping her breathing natural.

"And I slept on the couch because I'm the only one polite enough not to allow our guest to sleep on this moth-eaten torture device." She glared at Rachel and Kurt as though daring them to contradict her.

"But _you_ were sleeping there when I got home," Rachel whispered to Quinn, who simply smiled beatifically and shrugged.

"And, as the excellent hostess that I am," Santana continued, ignoring Rachel completely, "I will now offer to let our guest use the bathroom before me, assuming that Berry and Lady Hummel have left you any hot water, of course." She directed the last part of her comment directly at Quinn.

"Um, thank you." Quinn grabbed the necessary toiletries and clothing and disappeared into the bathroom before Santana could stir things up any more. As she turned to close the door, she saw Santana sashaying into her sleeping area with a big grin on her face, and the brunette caught her gaze and winked at her.

By the end of her second day in New York, Quinn was starting to feel at home. She'd insisted on exploring by herself and found it a lot more satisfying than the Rachel Berry tour of the previous day. She'd walked through Central Park and sat on a bench people-watching for over an hour then she'd been back to the bookstores she'd noted yesterday and completely lost track of time wandering through the stacks.

By the time she stepped out into the warm early evening summer sunshine again, she realised she was late for the 'family' dinner, Rachel and Kurt were planning. They'd even strong-armed Santana into attending, though by the calculating look Santana had given her that morning when she'd stepped out of the bathroom in her white sundress that was both shorter and more figure-hugging than her usual attire, Quinn thought that Santana was protesting more for show than anything else. Wanting to test her theory, Quinn had thrown the pale blue cardigan she'd been about to put on over the back of one of the dining chairs and wandered around the apartment as innocently and naturally as she could manage, revealing much more skin than was her usual custom and feeling Santana's eyes on her the whole time.

She arrived back at the loft, slightly breathless and only twenty minutes after Rachel's strict seven p.m. curfew, to the sound of laughter and a pleasant scent of food that made her stomach rumble in anticipation.

Dinner, it turned out, was a vegan affair involving stir fried vegetables and couscous that even Santana grudgingly had to admit was delicious. Rachel brought out a bottle of wine but remembering the previous night, Quinn politely declined. Santana smirked, and Quinn squirmed uncomfortably in her seat, willing herself not to blush, as the brunette's expression made it clear that she too was replaying the events in her mind.

Quinn hadn't been alone with Santana at all since their garbled three a.m. conversation, and she was glad that her friend had apparently decided not to torment her further by bringing it up in front of the others.

The evening flowed well and they all took it in turns to tease Rachel when she suggested many variations of games involving singing and they all shot her down.

"No way, Berry!" Santana growled when Rachel finished explaining the convoluted rules to a Berry-family game which seemed to involve her getting to sing show tunes if the others couldn't guess the song from the first two bars.

Quinn just giggled and shook her head. She was sitting beside Santana on the dreaded couch and trying not to think about imminently having to sleep on it.

"But my Dads love this game," Rachel pouted petulantly. Santana retaliated by throwing a cushion at her.

"No," she said again, simply.

"Kurt?" Rachel pleaded, but Kurt pretended to be busy studying an invisible fleck of lint on his sweater.

"Quinn? Just one game…" Rachel coaxed.

Ordinarily, Quinn would have said no, and high school Quinn would have followed it up with some witty yet scathing remark but here-and-now Quinn was distracted by the way Santana's forearm kept brushing lightly against hers, causing goose-bumps. Santana also seemed to keep moving slightly so that the scent of her shampoo washed over Quinn in waves. If she were doing this consciously she gave no outward sign and she seemed completely unaffected by her actions. Quinn, on the other hand, shivered lightly at every contact, and on several occasions she'd momentarily lost all contact with the present – her mind flashing back to _that_ night, several months previously.

_Santana's hands had continued their explorations up the outside of Quinn's thighs, her fingernails scraping lightly and causing the most delightful shivery sensations until Quinn heard herself moan raggedly into Santana's talented mouth. Suddenly, the touch had vanished, but before Quinn could protest, Santana's hands were behind her, tugging at the zipper on her dress… wait, when had she lost her jacket…?_

"Quinn?" Rachel asked again.

"Um…" Quinn responded, racking her brains to remember the question. Santana was looking at her curiously and Quinn was suddenly struck with the terrible thought that the other girl knew exactly what she'd been thinking. Whether Santana construed her horror-stricken look correctly, Quinn didn't know, but Santana suddenly yawned, and stretched.

"Okay, that's it, everybody out of my bedroom. I gots to get my beauty sleep on," she announced, looking around her expectantly.

"Um, Santana, this is the living room," Rachel reminded her, rolling her eyes. Santana mimicked the action.

"Um, Rachel, I'm letting Quinn have my bed remember," she countered, "because I'm the good hostess."

"But you said you were only giving up your bed for one n-…" Rachel managed to get out before Santana cut her off.

"I'm a good hostess," Santana repeated through gritted teeth.

Kurt recognised the warning signs and dashed off to his curtained-area with a quick good night to the girls.

Rachel also seemed to think twice about pushing any further, and she retreated to her own space, totally ignoring Santana, with a pointed, "Good night, _Quinn_."

"'Night, _Rachel_!" Santana called, with a little wave and Quinn chuckled.

"You shouldn't tease her so much," she chastised gently, suddenly feeling much more self-conscious now that the two of them were alone.

Santana shrugged dismissively.

"I have to get my fun somewhere," she said, her dark eyes searching out Quinn's gaze and holding it for a little longer than necessary. Quinn felt the now-familiar rush of heat. If Santana knew what she was saying, then she didn't let on.

"You don't have to give up your bed, Santana," Quinn said quietly, acutely aware of Santana's proximity. The brunette waved her down.

"Not a problem, Q, they make us tough in Lima Heights Adjacent, not fragile like you poor little rich girls. I can sleep through anything… except Berry's caterwauling."

Feeling it would be useless to argue, and not quite able to resist the selfish urge to get a comfortable night's sleep, Quinn simply thanked Santana and waited for the brunette to go change into her sleep-wear, before Santana gave her a chaste hug and sent her off to bed.

_Santana's nimble fingers peeled Quinn's dress down her arms and then helped her to stand so that the pink taffeta fell in a puddle at her feet. Santana had seen Quinn in her underwear more times than Quinn could count in the locker room in high school, but this was a totally different experience. For one thing, Santana had never swept her gaze over Quinn's curves with a look that could only be described as reverence. For another, Santana had never trailed her fingers over Quinn's collar bone nor followed those fingers with tiny butterfly kisses that made her weak at the knees._

_Quinn wanted to take off Santana's dress so that she could reciprocate, but she was suddenly shy and feeling vulnerable, standing in her underwear whilst the girl she'd tried for so long not to think about THAT WAY kissed her way down her throat, trailing her impossibly warm tongue over the valley between her breasts and dipping into her belly button._

_"Santana…" Quinn murmured throatily…_

For the second time in as many nights she awoke suddenly, her breathing shallow and rapid. The curtains were swaying slightly, and Santana stood hesitantly at the foot of the bed.

"Did you say something? Are you okay?" she asked softly, moving closer. Her face was illuminated by a thin shaft of moonlight, so that even without her glasses, Quinn could see the uncertainty in her expression.

"Um… I… you startled me." Fleeting thoughts of admitting the real reason for her obvious shortness of breath faded quickly and she chickened out. "Are _you _okay? It's the middle of the night." _And you're standing by my bed, _she added silently.

Santana surprised her by flinging herself down beside Quinn and snuggling down under the comforter.

"I can't sleep on that piece of crap couch anymore!" Her voice was muffled by the blankets and she had her face turned away so Quinn couldn't see her expression. "Hope you don't mind sharing."

"I…" Quinn began softly but Santana rolled over to face her and silenced her with a finger against her lips.

"Ssh, Q, sleep time now," she murmured groggily; then she closed her eyes and seemingly fell quickly into a deep and restful sleep.

Quinn lay awake in the darkness. Was it her imagination or had Santana's finger lingered against her lips for longer than strictly necessary? And how much had Santana heard before Quinn woke up? Had Quinn moaned Santana's name out loud? And just how long had Santana been standing there watching her sleep? The thoughts swirled around her mind, whilst her body remained almost painfully aware of the girl curled up beside her. It was a long time before Quinn finally drifted back to sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5: Status Quo**

The Berry-Hummel-Lopez-Fabray (and soon to include –Anderson) household soon settled into a routine. Quinn had initially tied herself in knots wondering what Rachel and Kurt would say about her and Santana sharing a bed, but neither of them commented on it at all.

Santana had said nothing either, she'd simply woken up in the morning, stretched and gone to take a shower. She'd gone about her day as usual then slipped wordlessly into bed beside Quinn that night, leaving her to agonise silently once again. Her big worry was that she'd say something in her sleep to give away her nightly dreams… or more accurately dream – it was always the same one. And so it went on for the next few days. Sometimes, Santana would be out at work when Quinn went to sleep, but she was always there when Quinn woke up, her long hair splayed out across the pillow and her chest rising and falling evenly and peacefully. Santana was seemingly unworried and unaffected by Quinn's presence in her bed, and Quinn didn't know whether to be relieved or devastated.

Blaine arrived halfway through Quinn's second week in New York. He and Kurt seemed instantly joined at the hip after so much time apart. Santana had given them a blunt and embarrassing speech about not wishing to have to purchase earplugs like she'd had to do when Rachel was seeing Brody, and it seemed to have worked because they were almost never home, and when they were they were as quiet as church mice.

Rachel's rehearsals were in full swing now and whole days could go by where no one in the apartment had any contact with her at all. Only the occasional dirty dish in the sink, or abandoned item of clothing in the communal living area demonstrated she'd been home at all. Santana maintained that this was a definite improvement.

Quinn was still living on her savings, but she knew she would have to find a job soon. She didn't relish the thought. She wasn't qualified to do anything, and she didn't think her experience as an ex high school head cheerleader would come in useful at all. She really did not want to take up bar work like Santana, and for someone who was supposedly graceful she had an uncanny knack of dropping dishes on a regular basis, so waitressing was most definitely out.

It was Santana who eventually came up with the perfect solution. She breezed into the loft one evening shortly before eleven p.m. and threw herself down onto the couch beside Quinn, grinning expectantly. When Quinn remained buried in her book, Santana cleared her throat loudly.

Quinn looked up indulgently. Santana was grinning at her like a Cheshire cat.

"What?" Quinn asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm the best roommate ever," announced Santana, tucking her long bare legs under her and bouncing enticingly on the cushions, an action that didn't go unnoticed by Quinn. "Ask me why!"

"Why?" Quinn asked warily. "Not that I'm doubting you, of course," she added with a smirk. Santana smacked her lightly on the arm.

"I got you a job," she explained triumphantly. Quinn sighed and put down her book.

"Santana, we've been through this – I'm not going to be a Coyote Ugly girl."

Santana snickered at the thought and Quinn tried not to take it personally.

"As if," she said, shaking her head. She proceeded to tell Quinn about a customer of hers who worked at the Columbia University Library. "So, she said that a lot of the student workers go home for vacations and they're always looking for casual staff at this time of year," she told her. "I told her about how you're a total book geek and she thought you'd be perfect. You need to fill in an application," she added flippantly, "but you're Quinn Fabray so that's not exactly going to be a hardship."

Without thinking, a grinning Quinn threw her arms around Santana and gave her a hug.

"San, that's fantastic, thank you," she squealed into Santana's hair. She held her tightly and breathed in the scent that was quintessentially Santana. The other girl's arms tightened around her and Quinn leaned into rest her head in the crook of Santana's neck. Instantly, her body reacted to the unanticipated closeness, her skin became sensitized and she swallowed hard as Santana's hands moved lightly over her back, grazing the skin where her tank-top didn't quite meet her shorts. With a gasp, Quinn pulled away like she'd been burned. "I-I'm sorry," she stammered, moving back to sit on her hands so that Santana wouldn't see that they were shaking.

Santana wasn't smiling anymore and her expression was unreadable. Wordlessly, she got up and began to make herself a cup of coffee. Ordinarily, Quinn would've made a quip about Santana drinking a caffeinated beverage this close to midnight, but she stayed silent and watched her instead. The lightness from a few minutes earlier was gone and Quinn didn't know how to get it back. She opened her mouth to speak several times but couldn't find the words.

"San, I…" she began eventually, just as the door opened and Kurt and Blaine came in, laughing and holding onto each other like they didn't have a care in the world. Suddenly, Quinn felt like she wanted to cry. Santana stalked off into her bedroom to change so Quinn stayed on the couch, making small talk with the guys until she was sure that Santana must be asleep.

She excused herself and went into the bathroom to get ready for bed, taking her time and stalling, delaying the moment when she'd actually have to go to bed. She even contemplated sleeping on the couch, but in the end tiredness took over and there was nothing else for it.

She climbed under the blankets and felt Santana shift slightly away from her. Quinn had hoped that she'd be asleep but no such luck.

"I'm sorry," she whispered again, into the darkness.

Santana didn't reply but Quinn felt her turn over to face her.

"It's okay," Santana murmured, and Quinn felt a warm hand reach out to stroke her cheek. The pads of Santana's fingers felt like velvet and Quinn shivered at her touch. A moment later, the caress ended and Santana rolled over again. "'Night, Q."

"'Night, San," replied Quinn, swallowing the lump in her throat and bringing her own fingers to her cheek. If she were braver, she could choose not to let it end there, she could press her body against Santana's, turn her over, feather her lips with kisses, touch her tenderly and whisper in her ear. Somehow, she was more certain than usual that the brunette wouldn't turn her down tonight. If she were braver… In the end, she rolled onto her side away from Santana and closed her eyes sadly.

Santana was still asleep when Quinn left the next morning. She located the University Library easily, and they directed her to the Human Resource Office to fill out an application. Santana's customer had been right about them needing the help, by the time she left three hours later, after a tour of the library, she had joined the ranks of the employed.

Quinn vacillated over calling Santana to tell her the news, but since it had been Santana's tip that got her the job, she decided she couldn't very well let her go un-thanked.

"San, I got it!" she cried into the phone.

"Got what?" Santana muttered sleepily.

"The job in the library!"

"You woke me up in the middle of the night to tell me that?"

"It's lunch time, Santana," Quinn corrected drily. There was a low chuckle on the other end of the line.

"Well, in that case, we should celebrate – and as you're a working girl, you can pay. Where are you? I'll come meet you."

Quinn hung up the phone, grinning excitedly, having arranged to meet Santana for lunch an hour later. She bit her lower lip and hugged herself, attracting funny looks from those around her, but for once she didn't care. Things may not be perfect, but in that moment, she was happy.

It turned out that an afternoon in Manhattan with Santana was very different to an afternoon in Manhattan with Rachel. For one thing, there was a lot less Broadway, for another, there was a lot more laughter.

Quinn collapsed in a fit of giggles so severe that it gave her a stitch when Santana made a very rude comment about the waiter who'd just brought them their burgers and sodas. Santana had wanted to dust off her fake ID but Quinn refused to play ball, and after several minutes of pouting Santana had given her up as a lost cause and ordered them both cokes.

Santana proceeded to entertain Quinn with cruel but accurate impressions of their roommates, and a story Quinn hoped was not true about Santana taking revenge on some perceived slight of Rachel's by mixing ground beef into her vegan stew.

Santana shrugged unapologetically, as Quinn shook her head at her. Then, when the waiter finally brought them the check and Quinn went to hand over her credit card. Santana pulled a twenty dollar note out of her cleavage, causing Quinn to break into another fit of giggles and the waiter to look at them distastefully.

"San, I'm paying," she said, trying to catch her breath. "We agreed."

"I was only kidding, Q," Santana told her, rolling her eyes and trying to give the waiter her money. "I don't expect you to pay for me."

"I want to." Quinn took hold of Santana's outstretched wrist and grabbed the twenty dollar bill, pushing it back towards her on the table. "Please, let me say thank you."

Nodding slightly, Santana tucked the cash back where it had come from and let Quinn pay for their food.

They walked back to the subway in relative silence, but it was a comfortable, familiar kind of quiet where neither of them felt the need to talk. Quinn had learned that Santana was one of the few friends with whom she had this in common. Most people seemed to find the need to fill every waking moment with nonsensical babbling. She was grateful for this quality in her friend, although she was never quite certain that Santana being quiet wasn't a warning sign that the girl was scheming about something.

"Come to work with me tonight," Santana said suddenly, breaking the silence. She'd been walking slightly ahead of Quinn and she turned around unexpectedly, causing Quinn to bump into her. Santana seemed to take Quinn's surprise as uncertainty because she continued her pitch animatedly. "Come on, Q, it'll be fun. Once you start working, you'll be too busy. I'll sneak you free drinks."

"I can't," Quinn said regretfully, "I'm sorry, San, but I told Blaine and Kurt I'd meet them for dinner."

Instantly, Santana shrugged nonchalantly. "Just a thought, it's no biggie," she said, moving back off down the street faster than before so Quinn had to hurry to keep up.

"I could call the guys and see if we can postpone," Quinn offered but Santana shook her head.

"I said it doesn't matter," Santana said breezily, and she sounded so sincere that Quinn began to wonder if she'd been reading too much into it. She'd had such a pleasant afternoon with her friend that she must have gotten her signals confused.

By the time the girls got back to the loft, Quinn had thoroughly convinced herself that this was the case. Santana had continued to behave exactly as she had all afternoon, even ruffling Quinn's hair affectionately as she headed out to work, and making her promise that she'd report back on her dinner with Lady Hummel and Clown-head (the unfortunate nickname Santana had devised for Blaine when she'd caught him coming out of the bathroom before having gelled his hair one morning.

As the door closed behind Santana, Quinn suddenly felt exhausted and confused. She drew her knees up to her chest and buried her head with a groan.

"Quinn, are you okay?" Blaine's voice made her jump, she hadn't realised he was home.

She nodded and smiled, but a sudden lump in her throat left her unable to speak.

"If you ever, um, want to talk about something, I'm a good listener," Blaine offered, still looking at her curiously.

Quinn gritted her teeth and forced a smile, then she jumped up from the couch using every remaining bit of willpower she had.

"Really, Blaine, I'm fine," she said, sounding like somebody else. "I'm just going to take a shower before we go to dinner." And with that, she dashed off before Blaine could respond, feeling his eyes linger on her until she shut the bathroom door and fell against it with a weary thud.


	6. Chapter 6

_**Author's note: I hope that you're still enjoying my story, I am progressing towards a Quinn and Santana relationship, I promise, but there have to be a few hurdles to overcome before they get there to make it all worth it! I hope that when I do get them together, you'll all think it's been worth the wait!  
**__**I've been writing more than I'd anticipated so here's a extra chapter for today. If I'm happy with chapters 7 and 8 (I'm just putting the finishing touches on them) I'll post them tomorrow. Feedback is always appreciated!**_

**Chapter Six: Confession is Good for the Soul**

Quinn sat in the restaurant and picked idly at her dinner. She had ordered some kind of pasta but she'd barely been looking at the menu when she chose it at random. It tasted good but she could have been eating cardboard given the level of enthusiasm she'd been able to muster.

Noticing that Blaine was paying her more attention than he was Kurt (who was currently enthusing about all the fun they were going to have when Blaine started at NYADA in the fall), Quinn managed to swallow a couple of mouthfuls. Her earlier good mood had completely dissipated and she just wanted to crawl into bed and cry.

She couldn't remember ever feeling as confused as she did right now. Spending the evening with Kurt and Blaine, who were so obviously happy and in love, only made her feel more lonely. If she knew what she wanted, that would be half the battle. She knew that she wanted someone in her life the way Kurt and Blaine had each other. She knew that she was attracted to Santana physically, but who wouldn't be able to appreciate her obvious assets? She and Santana were a lot alike, on the surface at least. Both seemed to the outside world to be strong, confident, beautiful young women, with the world at their feet.

Deep down inside however, Quinn felt like a fraud. She'd lived most of her life doing what others expected of her, to the point where she'd actually lost touch with who _she _was, and what _she_ wanted. She wished she had the courage to ask Santana, or even Rachel, if they were plagued with the same insecurities and self-doubt that she struggled with on a daily basis.

She knew that she was drawn to Santana like a moth to a flame – she always had been. But was that because she wanted to be like the fiery Latina, or was it something else entirely?

Blaine was at that moment kissing Kurt lightly on the lips and laughing at something his boyfriend had just said. Quinn imagined how that would feel if it were her and Santana. If everything else, all the labels, all the judgement, all the anxiety were stripped away. The thought gave her a pleasantly warm feeling inside.

But if she wanted to be with Santana, why had she pulled away from the hug the previous night? She'd been sharing a bed with Santana for almost two weeks, why hadn't she let something happen so far? In fact, why hadn't she _made_ something happen? After all, she was Quinn Fabray and she was used to getting what she wanted. At Mr Schuester's wedding she had wanted to be with Santana, wanted to see what it would be like, so she'd flirted and teased her way into her bed. What was she so afraid of now?

"Quinn? Hello, earth to Quinn? What planet are you on?" Quinn became aware of a hand waving back and forth in front of her eyes. Kurt was practically bouncing in his seat.

"Sorry?" she said, shaking her head in confusion.

Kurt sighed and rolled his eyes.

"I said, a group of friends from NYADA are catching a late movie and they just texted to see if we want to go, what do you think?"

"You go," Quinn told them, forcing a smile. "I think I'm just going to go home and sleep." She pushed her barely touched food away, and tossed her napkin on top of the plate.

"I think I'll pass too," Blaine said suddenly, earning him a curious look from Kurt. "You go though, and I'll walk Quinn home."

Kurt tried a couple more times to persuade them, then gave them both up as a lost cause and dashed off to get the subway.

The night air was chilly that evening and they walked at a quick pace in the same type of companionable silence Quinn had shared that afternoon with Santana. Once in the apartment, Blaine settled down to watch TV whilst Quinn got ready for bed.

She decided to get a bottle of water to take to bed with her so she padded barefoot across to the kitchen. The light from the TV flickered slightly and Quinn realised Blaine was watching her in the semi-darkness. From the look on his face, he seemed to be considering whether or not to say something to her but he seemed to think it better to remain silent.

She was almost back at the curtains sectioning off her and Santana's bedroom when Blaine finally spoke, causing her to freeze on the spot.

"It still stands you know, my offer to talk." His voice was gentle and quiet, but it resonated deep within her, and she turned around to meet his gaze. His eyes were full of concern, his brow knitted with worry.

Quinn's eyes filled with tears, and despite her efforts to will them away they spilled down her cheeks. She held her arms around her stomach, as though she could physically hold herself together, but it was no use. She started to sob.

In seconds, Blaine had crossed the room in long, measured strides to take her in his arms. He stroked her hair and let her bury her head against his chest.

"Let it go, Quinn," he whispered softly. "It'll be okay, I promise." He led her over to the couch and held her until her breathing eased and the tears stopped, then he mopped at her damp cheeks with a tissue. "Feel any better?" he asked and to her surprise, Quinn did.

"I'm sorry I fell apart on you," Quinn told him ruefully, as the embarrassment of the situation began to set in.

Blaine sighed.

"Can I be honest with you, Quinn?" he asked. She nodded tentatively. "I've been waiting for you to do that for days," Blaine admitted. "You've been tying yourself in knots, I couldn't help but notice. I've been there myself."

"What do you mean?" she said quietly, shredding the tissue into tiny pieces on her lap.

"How long have you been in love with Santana?" Blaine queried bluntly.

Quinn closed her eyes and shuddered.

"I don't know that I am," she explained. And then it all came out in a rush. She sat there and poured her heart out to Blaine whilst he sat beside her and listened. She told him about sleeping with Santana at the wedding, about the way the brunette had been on her mind ever since. She described the sleepless nights and feelings of panic both before and after her arrival in New York. She related each and every encounter she'd had with Santana over the last couple of weeks, and explained how they'd only added to her confusion. When she'd finished she took a deep, trembling breath. "So what do I do now?" she asked him desperately. Blaine looked at her thoughtfully.

"You should talk to Santana," he advised. "Tell her how you feel."

"But I don't know how I feel," Quinn insisted. Blaine shook his head.

"Yes, you do, you just don't want to admit it," he said simply. "You love her."

There was a long pause before Quinn answered him, and when she did her voice was small and broken.

"But what if she doesn't love me back?"

Blaine smiled.

"What if she does?"

There was a long pause whilst Quinn considered the implications of his words.

"I'm not ready for that conversation," she admitted finally, more to herself than to Blaine. "I need some time." Blaine nodded sagely.

"So let the universe decide," he advised. "If the time is right for you and Santana, you'll know."

Quinn liked that idea. She felt somewhat comforted by Blaine's suggestion and she began to feel the tension ebb from her tired muscles. She only had one more worry left.

"Do the others know?" she asked, dreading the answer.

"Kurt has noticed that you're unhappy," Blaine told her honestly. "He'd picked up on the tension between you and Santana before I arrived. But he doesn't know what's causing your anxiety. I'm not going to tell him, either," he assured her. "Not until you're ready."

"And Rachel?" Quinn asked nervously. Blaine laughed.

"Honestly, I sometimes think you could make out with Santana right here in the living room and she still wouldn't notice," he admitted. Quinn laughed out loud, and found herself strangely cheered by the mental image of her making out with Santana in the living room.

Giving Blaine another hug, and still chuckling to herself she headed off to bed, and had the best night's sleep she'd managed in weeks.


	7. Chapter 7

_**Author's note: Once again, thank you so much for all the reviews and follows of my story, I'm glad you're all enjoying it! All feedback is gratefully received! Anyways, here's chapter 7 and I'll probably get chapter 8 up a little later tonight. Enjoy!**_

**Chapter Seven: Best Laid Plans**

Quinn's mood was definitely much improved over the next couple of days. Blaine was still keeping a close eye on her though, and Kurt's curiosity was definitely piqued. She knew Blaine must have kept his promise not to divulge her secrets to Kurt, and for that she was unfailingly grateful.

She was suddenly invited to hang out with them pretty much everywhere they went, and they fussed over her like she was a china doll. For Quinn, the ego boost was gratifying and she began to feel flickers of that same confidence she'd had when she'd walked the halls of William McKinley High School as head Cheerio.

On the morning of her first day at work both boys got up early to make her breakfast and help her get ready – the pancakes she appreciated, the fashion advice not so much.

More than anything, she was relieved to finally have something to do that didn't involve being a third-wheel on Blaine and Kurt's dates. The work was interesting and her new colleagues were friendly, but by far the biggest perk was the access to the well-stocked stacks of books. She brought home new volumes every day, to much mocking and teasing from her roommates.

She was sitting curled up in bed one night towards the end of her first week at work, reading a philosophy textbook when Santana arrived home from work and threw herself down on the bed fully-dressed with a dramatic sigh.

Quinn wrinkled her nose.

"Ew, Santana! You smell like a brewery!" She gave her a gentle shove but the brunette refused to move.

"I'm exhausted," she grumbled. "Katy called in sick tonight so I had to dance for three straight hours, and then this drunken idiot spills his drink all over my shirt."

"Hmm, I can tell," Quinn said distastefully.

Santana sighed again and sat up with an exaggerated groan. She reached for the hem of the offending item of clothing, pulled it over her head in a single, swift movement, then tossed it carelessly on to the floor. Then she flung herself back down and lay with her head practically in Quinn's lap.

"Better?" she asked, a slight glint in her eyes. Quinn tried desperately to keep her eyes from wandering down to Santana's scantily clad figure, her tanned skin only shielded by a pair of black hot pants and a lacy black bra.

Quinn ignored her friend and returned her attention to her book, although it may as well have been written in Russian for all the sense it suddenly made. She read the same sentence five times as Santana lay half-dressed in her lap, examining her hair for any evidence of split ends.

Suddenly, Santana flipped over onto her stomach and grabbed the book out of Quinn's hands.

"What on earth are you reading, Q?" she asked with a derisive snort. "Honestly girl, it's Friday night in the middle of summer and you're in bed with a textbook. I'm sure that there's a certain geek-boy demographic that would be thrilled with this picture but you seriously need to get a life!" She chuckled to herself and bounced up onto her knees, holding the book out of Quinn's reach when she tried to snatch it back.

"Santana!" she whined, lunging for and missing the book for a second time.

"Next thing you'll be telling me you're into sci-fi," Santana grinned, and then laughed out loud when Quinn turned beet-red. "You're kidding!"

"Well, Sam was really into it and I was trying to be a good girlfriend, so…" Quinn told her defensively. "Santana!" she aimed a pillow at her friend's head when the brunette continued to laugh. "It's not funny!"

"Yes it is," Santana choked out, wiping away tears from her eyes. "I can just picture you in some cute little outfit at a comic convention – you'd cause a riot – I doubt many of those poor boys have gotten that close to a hot girl in the flesh before."

"Santana!" Quinn pleaded again. "Please, don't tease me."

Something in her tone calmed Santana's giggles, and she reached out to push Quinn's glasses back up the bridge of her nose.

"You know, you really do look cute in these," she said thoughtfully.

Quinn pouted, unsure whether she was still being teased.

"I'm tired," she said huffily. "Get back on your own side of the bed." She gave Santana another small push but to no avail. Santana simply stretched out beside her in the middle of the bed and kicked the blankets up over her long legs.

"Aren't you going to change?" Quinn asked her, raising an eyebrow.

"Nope." Santana closed her eyes and raised her arms behind her head to demonstrate that she was quite happy with her current position.

Sighing, Quinn placed her glasses on the nightstand and turned off the light. She burrowed down under the blankets, and tried hard to ignore the fact that Santana had left her about eighteen inches of space on the mattress. The night was warm and Quinn was wearing shorts and a camisole. She could feel the hot soft skin of Santana's side against her back, and her whole body was thrumming appreciatively.

With no warning, Santana suddenly turned over and draped her arm over Quinn's waist. Her bra-covered breasts rubbed against Quinn's back and Quinn had to bite her lip to stifle a moan.

"I'm sorry for teasing you," Santana whispered in her ear. Feeling a little braver in the darkness, Quinn intertwined her fingers with Santana's and gave them a gentle squeeze by means of a reply.

When Quinn woke up early on Saturday morning, she found herself laying half on her stomach with one of Santana's legs between hers, and Santana's left arm curled over her back and side. Quinn's camisole had ridden up and Santana's hand was dangerously close to her breast.

Instead of panicking and freaking out, she decided to take Blaine's advice and let the universe choose her path. She snuggled down lower and Santana's fingers brushed the soft underside of her breast, shooting a wonderful shiver down her spine. Santana did not stir and, after revelling in the sensation for a few moments, Quinn closed her eyes and went back to sleep.

The next time she awoke, she was lying on her back with the sheet twisted around her legs and her camisole had ridden up, baring much of her stomach.

Santana was gone, but there was a note on the pillow next to her, written in Santana's large, sloppy handwriting.

_Good morning, Sleeping Beauty – and you say I sleep late! You still owe me a visit to the bar, and since you get off work at nine tonight, why don't you stop by? No excuses this time. x_

Quinn felt a shiver of anticipation run through her. This was a sign, right? This was the universe giving her an opportunity, wasn't it?

Feeling a sudden rush of energy, she practically skipped out of bed, bumping into a surprised Kurt and giving him a big hug on her way to the bathroom. She spent twice as long as usual showering and washing her hair, exfoliating and moisturizing her skin, and checking her face for any tiny blemishes; only emerging when an agonized Rachel threatened to break the door down because Quinn was making her late for rehearsal.

Quinn dressed carefully in an outfit that was suitable for work but also wouldn't look out of place in a bar. The olive green dress brought out the color of her eyes and the soft material hugged her body in all the right places, yet swished gracefully around her legs. It fell a few inches above the knee, a little shorter than she would usually wear, especially to work, and she covered the spaghetti straps and cut-out back with a white cardigan that she could remove later. She teamed the outfit with gold ballet pumps and blended shades of green and gold eye shadow carefully to make her eyes seem bigger and brighter.

She brushed and straightened her hair until it shone like pure honey, and dug out her expensive perfume that she usually saved for special occasions. The last time she'd worn it was at Mr Schuester's wedding and the scent brought memories of that night flooding back.

_Santana's lips and tongue had continued their exploration of Quinn's torso, leaving cool wet trails on her flushed skin. Her hands had continued to caress Quinn's thighs and she shuddered at the sensations. Her knees trembled and she clung on to Santana's shoulders as if she were a life-raft and Quinn were drowning._

_Santana had seemed to recognise Quinn was on the verge of falling and she paused in her ministrations to lay them both back the bed, the soft satin comforter felt nice against Quinn's sensitized skin as Santana caught her lips in another blistering kiss._

_Barely conscious of her actions, Quinn's hands had reached up to cup Santana's breasts through the fabric of her dress and Santana growled appreciatively into her mouth as her own fingers trailed up the inside of Quinn's thigh, drawing tiny circles against her tender flesh, moving higher and higher…_

Quinn forced herself to snap out of her daydream, catching sight of her flushed face in the vanity mirror. She'd been biting her lower lip and it was pink and swollen. Leaning forward, elbows resting on the dresser, she touched her fingers to her mouth with a slow smile. Her body coursed within adrenalin and she shivered in anticipation of the night ahead.

Her shift at work was from three until nine p.m. She'd initially signed up for a Saturday night session because she was sick of being a third wheel on Kurt and Blaine's dates and sitting home alone would only remind her of her pathetic social life.

The library was slow with just a few summer school students left by the time she took her break at six p.m. Quinn paced restlessly, her discarded and unwanted sandwich left on the break room table. She was too hyped up to eat and watching every second go past torturously slowly on the clock above the fridge was driving her insane. She wound up cutting her break short and going back to work just to have something to do.

At nine p.m. she said goodbye to the security guard and practically ran out of the door to catch the subway. She found the bar with no trouble, despite Santana's convoluted directions, but once she was standing outside she had a sudden attack of nerves and considered texting Santana to say that she was going home with a headache.

A group of giggling girls wearing practically no clothing pushed past her and entered the bar. Quinn's mind instantly conjured an image of Santana flirting with them as she poured their drinks, leaning over the bar to joke with them, dancing whilst they watched her attentively. A rush of jealousy flooded through her and with one last deep breath she handed the doorman a twenty dollar bill and headed inside.

The bar was dark and loud but it didn't take her long to spot Santana, dressed in a bright red shirt and black shorts behind the bar. Quinn pushed her way through the crowd and waited for Santana to spot her. It didn't take long. Santana's face lit up with a wide smile and she squeezed Quinn's hands across the bar.

"You made it!" she yelled over the pulsating music. Quinn grinned.

"Well, a friend of mine told me it was about time I got a life," she teased.

"Smart friend," Santana countered. She poured Quinn a drink and refused to take her money when Quinn dug it out of her purse. "I get offered free drinks all the time," she explained, "and we're not supposed to say no so we take the money and put it behind the bar. So your drinks tonight are on me, or more accurately," she gestured to the other patrons, "on them."

Quinn watched Santana flirt with and serve customers for the next hour or so but every chance she got, the brunette headed back over to Quinn for a few snatched moments of conversation. Santana was keeping Quinn's glass topped up, and although she was willing herself to go slow and sip her drinks, her nerves kept taking over, and she'd soon lost track of how many she'd had. _Was this her third or her fourth?_ she wondered as Santana refilled her glass again.

At ten-thirty it was Santana's turn to dance. Quinn was suddenly hyper-aware of every part of her body as Santana climbed onto the bar to rapturous applause. She watched as Santana sashayed along the bar, swaying and twisting her hips to the music, taking care to make eye contact with as many of the cheering patrons as she could.

Quinn suddenly couldn't breathe. She couldn't bear to watch all those captivated people whooping and whistling at Santana for a moment longer. She leapt down from her bar stool and struggled through the crowd until she was standing outside in the cool night air, trying not to throw up. Tears stung her eyes and she blinked them away furiously, fighting to regain her composure.

"Quinn?" The unexpected use of her full name made her spin around, and then she wished she hadn't as the ground seemed to sway slightly beneath her feet and a wave of nausea hit her. Santana looked like she didn't know whether to be angry or worried. "Where are you going?"

"I…" Quinn began, but then she faltered and shook her head. "I don't know," she said honestly. Santana stepped closer and took Quinn's hand, stroking it softly with the pad of her thumb.

"You're shaking," she whispered. Quinn nodded. "Are you cold?" Santana questioned tentatively. Quinn shook her head.

"Not even a little bit," she admitted. Santana was standing very close to her and Quinn could see the moonlight reflected in her eyes. Slowly, carefully, Quinn took a step forward so that her body was just an inch from the other girl's. She raised herself onto her toes slightly so that her height matched Santana's high-heeled frame. She could feel Santana's warm breath so close to her face and her dark eyes were wide and curious. Quinn brushed her lips lightly against Santana's and felt fireworks. Passion and need flooded through her as she pressed her body hard against Santana, tilting her head slightly as the brunette's tongue pressed against her lips, seeking deeper access as her fingers tangled into Quinn's hair.

When they parted, they were both breathing heavily. For once Santana seemed at a loss for words. She simply smiled and smoothed Quinn's mussed-up hair. Then she planted a tiny, chaste kiss on Quinn's swollen lips and smiled enigmatically.

"It's about time you did that," she said, with a self-satisfied smirk. "I thought you were going to make me wait forever."


	8. Chapter 8

_**Author's note: As promised here is chapter 8 - thank you so much for the positive feedback! Chances are, there will probably only be one update tomorrow and one on Sunday, rather than the two chapters I've been managing so far, as I've got a busy weekend ahead of me. Hope you all enjoy this chapter!**_

**Chapter Eight: Patience**

"Come back inside?" Santana pleaded softly, her fingers stroking through the silky strands of Quinn's hair. "We can talk later, I promise, but I need to get back to work."

Quinn didn't want to go back inside – it was hot, noisy, and overcrowded and she was starting to feel claustrophobic. She really didn't want to watch Santana gyrate and wiggle on a grimy bar to a cacophony of whistles and suggestive comments. She wanted Santana to take her home, to sit with her and talk to her, to hold her hand and kiss her again and have the brunette tell her that she was beautiful.

She'd finally taken a leap and shown Santana how she felt, and she _needed _to figure out what came next. Maybe it was selfish of her but she couldn't help it.

She couldn't exactly verbalize this to Santana though. She didn't want her to think she was a jealous freak or else some kind of basket case.

"I want to go home," she admitted finally. Santana's expression clouded over she dropped her hand back to her side. Quinn knew instantly she'd said the wrong thing. "I want to talk to you, San, I really do, but not in there," she said, anguished.

"Are you ashamed of me?" Santana asked in a low tone. In answer, Quinn caught Santana's lips in another searing kiss. She tried to convey everything she wanted to say but didn't know how to into that kiss and it must have worked, at least a little, because Santana looked a lot happier when they parted. Santana sighed. "I'll see if I can get off work a little early and come home, but I'm going to have to get back in there, at least for the time being. Will you wait up for me?"

Quinn nodded, relieved that Santana wasn't going to press the issue of her going back into the bar any further.

"I promise," she said, as Santana kissed her again, massaging Quinn's tongue with her own. Quinn groaned as Santana pressed up against her and she heard Santana chuckle.

"I love it when you do that," Santana mumbled against Quinn's lips before they reluctantly parted. "I'll see you soon, okay?"

"Get back to work," Quinn told her grinning. "And hurry home."

Quinn arrived home to an empty apartment and after several minutes of wandering aimlessly, replaying the kiss in her head she decided to go take a shower while she waited for Santana to come home.

The hot water felt good against her skin and Quinn felt tension she hadn't realised she was holding on to slowly ebb away. Despite her promise to stay awake for Santana, the shower made her sleepy and she decided it wouldn't hurt to lie down for a little while and rest.

She cuddled up against Santana's pillow and breathed in her scent, hoping that she wouldn't take too long getting home.

_Santana had sat back and helped Quinn to tug off her clothes, when Quinn complained breathlessly that Santana was over dressed. Oh God, she wasn't wearing a bra, Quinn had realised as Santana lifted the dress over her head. Tentatively, Quinn ran her fingers over Santana's hard nipples and felt a shudder go through her as Santana threw her head back and gasped. Quinn bent her head to plant a kiss on one of the dark peaks and she felt Santana's nimble fingers at her back, unfastening the clasp of her bra._

_It was so different to her experiences with men, Quinn marvelled. With guys it was all about how quickly they could get you naked and take what they wanted, but Santana was taking her time to explore Quinn's body and find out exactly how she liked to be touched._

_Quinn flushed as Santana peeled away the dark pink bra that she chosen because it matched her dress, and feasted her eyes over Quinn's figure hungrily. Her fingers followed her eyes and her lips came after that, until Quinn was quite literally squirming beneath her and ready to beg._

_Santana must have been reading the signs because she trailed her fingers down over Quinn's stomach, laughing when she made her shiver, and moving her hand to the apex of Quinn's thighs where her desire was evident. Santana peeled Quinn's panties down her legs and tossed them aside before kissing her way back up the inside of her thigh. Quinn had never felt so vulnerable and exposed but she didn't care in the slightest. She just didn't want Santana to ever stop touching her. Santana's slender fingers found their way to where Quinn wanted them the most, stroking gently until Quinn could only babble incoherently, begging for release._

_"Let go, Quinn," Santana had whispered hoarsely, and, at the sound of her voice Quinn had seen stars…_

She woke up breathing raggedly and her body tingling intensely from the aftermath of her dream. The apartment was dark and she was still alone, so Quinn lay back and allowed the fading waves of pleasure to send shivers down her spine as they dissipated.

As she came down, a thought began to nag at the back of her mind. Would Santana be expecting a replay of _that_ night when she got home? As much as Quinn was ready to admit her physical attraction to Santana, and as much as she wanted to explore that side of things, she wasn't sure she wanted to leap straight into a full-on sexual relationship. She wanted to take her time and get used to the idea first. She wanted to go on dates and stay up all night talking as though they'd just met rather than having known each other for years. She wanted the romance, the private jokes, and the candlelit dinners. She wanted to kiss and cuddle and fall asleep in each other's arms, before they both decided they were ready to take that step together.

Before she could work herself up into any more of a state, Quinn heard the unmistakable sound of a key turning in the front door and seconds later the curtains parted and Santana smiled shyly at her.

"Hi," she said, taking in Quinn's sleepy and slightly dishevelled appearance with a slight smirk. "Looks like someone broke her promise to wait up for me." She sat down on the bed and ran her hand over Quinn's exposed shoulder, brushing her hair aside to kiss her first on her pulse point and then on her lips.

"Mmm," Quinn murmured. "I wish I'd stayed asleep if that's how you would've woken me up. Did you get in trouble for running out like that and then leaving early?"

"It's fine," Santana said dismissively in between peppering Quinn's neck with feather-light kisses. "They're not going to argue with me. I'm their hottest girl, and they know it."

"They're not the only ones who know it," Quinn replied without thinking, as Santana's mouth against her skin caused her higher brain functions to jumble.

"Do you still want to talk?" Santana asked her, brushing her fingertips up and down Quinn's arm before hooking her fingers through the spaghetti strap of Quinn's vest and tugging it to one side to nuzzle her shoulder without distractions.

"Uh-huh," Quinn mumbled, moving her fingers under Santana's chin to bring the brunette's mouth back up to hers. She kissed her slowly and deeply for several seconds, a kiss not of passion but of intimacy that took both girls' breath away. "But it can wait until you've taken a shower," she added with her eyes glinting mischievously.

"Are you saying I smell?" Santana asked, pretending to be offended. Quinn simply shrugged, giggled, and snuggled back down into bed. "I take it you don't want to join me?" Santana joked.

"Another time," Quinn said teasingly. Santana laughed and kissed Quinn on the forehead.

"I'll hold you to that," she promised.

She took herself off for a shower as requested and a few minutes later Quinn heard the water running. The sound was soothing, even with the clunky pipes, and she was soon fighting sleep again.

She was vaguely aware of Santana re-entering the room and whispering her name but she was too relaxed and comfortable to move. She felt Santana get into bed behind her and cuddle up to her, wrapping an arm around her waist. She felt a soft kiss on her shoulder blade.

"I knew you wouldn't be able to stay awake," Santana said with a chuckle.

"I mm 'wake," mumbled Quinn and she heard Santana laugh again, and felt another kiss on her shoulder. Santana's fingers were under Quinn's camisole, drawing patterns on her stomach lazily.

"We'll talk tomorrow. Go to sleep, Q," Santana instructed, and Quinn happily obliged.

Quinn woke up early in the morning with more energy than she'd had in weeks. Whilst a part of her wanted nothing more than to stay curled up in bed with Santana wrapped around her, she needed to do something with her surplus energy.

Carefully extracting herself from Santana's embrace, she moved quietly across the room to grab her workout clothes and her phone. She dressed quickly in the bathroom and scribbled Santana a quick note.

_Now who's the Sleeping Beauty? I'm going for a run but I'll be back soon, I'll bring you breakfast in bed. xx_

She smiled when she went to place the note on her pillow to see that Santana had spread her limbs across the whole bed. She planted a soft kiss on Santana's cheek and was quietly thrilled when Santana smiled in her sleep. It was several moments before she finally tore her gaze away from the sleeping brunette and headed out for her run.

Santana was lying in bed listening to music on her iPod when Quinn arrived home, hot and sweaty, but carrying croissants and coffee. She set them down on the dresser as Santana jumped up to kiss her good morning.

"Santana!" Quinn squealed as the brunette tried to drag her over to the bed. "I'm all dirty, I need to take a shower." Santana's response was to kiss her more deeply and reach her hands under Quinn's damp shirt, breaking the kiss only to tug it off over her head.

Santana had Quinn's bra off and her hands were moving to touch Quinn's breasts before Quinn could gather her thoughts. She pulled back hard, stumbling slightly and crossing her arms across her naked chest. Santana looked hurt and confused.

"What's wrong?" she asked hotly, her eyes flashing.

"I wanted to talk to you," Quinn replied, feeling her own temper rising. "I didn't expect you to jump on me the second I get home."

"Jump on you?" Santana repeated, shaking her head. "I was just saying good morning."

"Good morning doesn't usually involve getting naked," Quinn shot back, reaching for her discarded shirt on the floor. She was aware of Santana's eyes following her every move, but turning her back to put the shirt on felt like too much of a snub given the number of times Santana had seen her naked in the locker room, so she simply tried to tug the shirt back on as quickly as possible, and hoped she wasn't blushing too badly. Once she was decent again she felt a little less self-conscious, and her flash of anger was fading. "Santana, I want to do this right," she admitted with a sigh. "I really don't want to screw it up." She sat down on the bed and tugged on Santana's arm to get her to sit next to her. "It's not that I don't want to be close to you like that, I do." She closed her eyes at the thought of Santana's naked body pressed up against hers and shivered in anticipation. "But I don't want us to jump into bed. Can we take it slow? Please?"

Santana didn't answer for several seconds and Quinn was beginning to think she'd blown it but when Santana turned to look at her, her eyes were bright and full of emotion.

"I don't want to screw this up either," she admitted. "This… talking," she gestured between herself and Quinn, "it's not easy for me, Q. I act on instinct and hot blood most of the time. I shoot my mouth off and I rub people up the wrong way. You know that."

"I do," Quinn admitted thoughtfully. "But I'm still here. That's got to count for something, right?"

Santana offered her a small smile.

"So, do you want to… date… or…?"

"Dating's good," Quinn agreed. "Kissing's good too, but let's just keep it PG-13 for a while, okay?"

"Can we compromise with an R-rating?" Santana asked hopefully. Quinn laughed.

"I'll think about it," she promised. "Now, do you want your coffee before it gets cold?"


	9. Chapter 9

_**Author's Note: Once again, thank you for taking the time to follow / review my story - I appreciate all feedback! Here's chapter 9...**_

**Chapter Nine: Girls Plan, God Laughs**

Lying in bed that night, resting her head on Santana's shoulder whilst Santana stroked her hair, Quinn couldn't ever remember feeling happier. She and Santana had spent a blissful day in each other's company, talking and flirting, finding their way in their fledgling relationship.

Santana had surprised Quinn by agreeing amiably to keep their new relationship status just to themselves for the time being. Santana had confessed that she wanted to have something that was just for them for a while before they had to share it with the world, and Quinn was relieved. She was wary of the inevitable labels that would be assigned to her when the news came out. Even though she was away from the repressive upbringing she'd had from her parents, Quinn still struggled with those demons.

"So," Santana said suddenly, as though they were already in the middle of a conversation, "we need to talk about our first date."

Quinn frowned and lifted her head to look at Santana. Santana kissed the tip of her nose and she blushed, burying her head again into the sweet smelling curtain of the brunette's hair.

"What was today?" she asked, her voice muffled.

"That wasn't a date, silly," Santana admonished gently. "That was pizza and a movie in the living room. A date involves leaving the apartment, getting dressed up, flowers and candlelight, and a goodnight kiss at the door."

"Sounds familiar," Quinn teased. "I think I may have read about something like that in a book."

"How's Wednesday?" Santana asked her and Quinn wrinkled her nose.

"What's wrong with Friday or Saturday like normal people?" she asked, rolling onto her stomach and propping herself up on her elbows. Santana glanced down at her and groaned.

"Can you please not lie like that unless you want me to ravage you?" she asked, closing her eyes. Quinn realised she was giving Santana an excellent view of her cleavage and she giggled, but grabbed a pillow to protect her modesty.

"You can open your eyes now," she said, blushing furiously. "I'm decent."

"Hardly," Santana noted, rolling her eyes. Quinn hit her. "I have to work on Friday, and Saturday's too far away," she said, getting back to their earlier conversation. "You're working late Monday and Tuesday, so that leaves us with Wednesday and Thursday."

"Wednesday sounds perfect then," Quinn agreed. "I like yellow roses and Italian food."

"Who says I have to arrange everything?" Santana asked indignantly.

"You asked me out," Quinn said with a shrug. "Ergo, you are the date-er and I am the date-ee."

Santana snorted.

"Ergo? Who talks like that? And date-ee isn't even a word!"

"Santana," Quinn sighed, shaking her head. "Just shut up and kiss me."

Santana was quick to oblige, laying down beside Quinn and pulling her close, lightly dragging her lips over Quinn's and then kissing her again more passionately.

As the hormones surged through Quinn's body, she seriously considered ripping off both of their clothes and forgetting her resolve to take things slow. It was only day one and it was already proving near impossible for her to keep her hands off Santana, especially when they were sharing a bed. For the first time in her life she appreciated why Finn had found it necessary to relive driving his car into the mailman every time things between them had gotten a little heated.

Breathlessly and reluctantly, Quinn forced herself to slow the kiss down, and she pulled back to gaze into Santana's eyes.

"Were you really waiting for me to make a move on you?" she asked, remembering their kiss from the previous night.

Santana smiled enigmatically.

"Maybe," she admitted.

"Why didn't you say anything to me?" Quinn demanded. "You could have saved me a lot of anxiety."

Santana resumed stroking Quinn's hair and sighed.

"You're not that easy to read, Q, and I didn't want to scare you off. I wasn't sure you were ready and I… I like having you in my life… you're too important to me and I couldn't risk losing you, even if it meant I could only have you as a friend."

Quinn was quiet as she digested this new piece of information. Hearing Santana talk about how important she was to her made Quinn feel so special. She'd always worried what people thought of her, if they really liked her or if they were just scared and intimidated by her. She knew she was intense and a lot to handle but all she'd ever really wanted was somebody to love her. She'd been second best so many times in her life, and she just wanted to come first for once. Even as a little girl, she'd tried so hard to please her parents but she'd never truly felt that they loved her unconditionally, the way parents were supposed to.

"What are you thinking about?" Santana asked her softly.

Quinn reached out and intertwined her fingers with Santana's.

"I was thinking how safe I feel here with you," she admitted. "I'm not going to risk losing you either… whatever it takes."

Monday and Tuesday seemed to Quinn to drag on forever. Work was busy and kept her mind from drifting, but the remaining sixteen hours a day felt like weeks. She and Santana had agreed to spend some time apart leading up to the date, as Quinn thought it would heighten the anticipation, although after much pouting from Santana, Quinn agreed that they could still fall asleep in each other's arms at night.

Finally, Wednesday dawned and Quinn could not concentrate at work at all. Several times she found herself trying to shelve books in completely the wrong section of the library and she had to get a student to repeat the title of the book he was looking for three times before she managed to remember it long enough to type it into the computer system.

Eventually, it was five p.m. and Quinn dashed across town back to the loft to get ready for their date. Santana had agreed to be done with the bathroom by the time she got home to give her time to get ready, and she'd agreed that Quinn could let Blaine in on their secret so that he could help ensure that Kurt and Rachel were out of the way for the evening. He'd planned for the three of them to go out for an early dinner and a Judy Garland movie marathon at a theater in Brooklyn that would keep them out until late.

As Quinn turned her key in the door, it became apparent that all had not gone to plan. Rachel and Kurt were in the kitchen, plates of food set in front of them on the counter whilst Blaine sat wearily on the couch, checking his watch. Santana was nowhere to be seen.

Quinn glanced at Blaine questioningly, and he pulled her to one side to explain. Rachel and Kurt were arguing over which was the best version of _A Star is Born_ and therefore practically oblivious to the fact that Quinn was even home.

"I'm sorry," Blaine hissed with an apologetic smile. "Rachel's rehearsal overran and they just decided to eat here before we go. I'll get them out of here as soon as I can."

"Where's Santana?" Quinn whispered. Blaine nodded his head towards the curtained-off sleeping area. Quinn squeezed his hand and with a quick, "thank you," she dashed off to find Santana.

Santana was sitting on the bed with her long legs stretched out in front of her when Quinn entered. She wore a simple, figure-hugging black dress that looked fantastic on her, and a frown that said she was about to go '_all Lima Heights Adjacent' _on someone.

"You look amazing," Quinn told her, leaning across the bed to give her a kiss. "Are you okay? Blaine's working on getting them out of here, and they won't be home until late."

Santana sighed, but Quinn's presence seemed to be having a calming effect.

"I just wanted tonight to be perfect," she admitted. Quinn slid onto the bed beside her.

"It will be," she promised. Santana's arms wrapped around her and they kissed, slowly and deeply; forgetting all about their roommates as they got lost in each other. Quinn was finding Santana's dress incredibly arousing and as they fooled around on the bed it was riding higher and higher around her thighs.

Quinn's lips were swollen and tingling as she kissed her way across Santana's neck and chest. Santana's hands were under Quinn's shirt, caressing the soft skin just below her breasts, and both girls were breathing hard. It took every ounce of Quinn's willpower to pull back and gaze deeply into Santana's eyes.

"I've been thinking," she said breathlessly. "I know I said I wanted to wait, but I think… I mean… I _have_ changed my mind. I want you, Santana, I want to be with you tonight when we get home."

"You said you wanted it to be perfect," Santana reminded her, stroking her fingertips up and down Quinn's arm.

"It will be," Quinn promised her. "I don't want to wait anymore."

Santana smiled. "Well then, you'd better go get ready for our date," she said with a grin.

Quinn had bought a new dress for their date. It was red, a color she seldom wore but knew Santana loved, and figure-hugging. She'd barely eaten for two days to make sure she looked good in it. She curled her hair and carefully applied her make up in the bathroom, but her mind was only half on the task at hand. She shivered with anticipation of the night ahead of them. She wanted so badly to make love with Santana that a large part of her wanted to forget dinner entirely and skip straight to dessert. If it weren't for the fact that Quinn had hallucinated Rachel looking like a giant hamburger as she'd passed her on her way into the bathroom, she would have gone with her hormones. As it was, she was worried she might pass out if she didn't eat soon – she recognised the signs from her Cheerio days.

As she stepped out of the bathroom, her roommates were finally getting ready to go out.

"You look amazing, Quinn," Rachel told her with a slightly puzzled look on her face. "But I thought you were just going to grab dinner with Santana?"

Quinn threw Blaine a _help me _look.

"Rachel, we're going to miss the start of the movie," he pleaded and began to usher her towards the door.

Quinn's cell phone started to ring on the coffee table.

"You're popular tonight," Kurt told her with a raised eyebrow. "It rang three times whilst you were in the bathroom."

Quinn hurried across the room and pressed the answer key without checking the caller I.D.

"Hello?"

"Quinnie?" It was her mom. Something in the tone of her mother's voice made Quinn's blood run cold.

She froze, holding her breath, and didn't answer.

"Quinnie?" her mom asked again.

"What is it?" she asked quietly. Her roommates all turned around to look at her, sensing something was wrong.

"It's your Dad, sweetie," her mom said tearfully. "He's in the hospital. He's had a heart attack and it doesn't look good."


	10. Chapter 10

_**Author's note: Thank you so much for all the positive reviews, I'm glad people seem to be enjoying my story even though things aren't going well for poor Quinn. Remember the phrase "things have to get worse before they can get better"? Well... with that in mind, here is chapter 10. As always, any feedback is gratefully received.**_

**Chapter Ten: Blood and Water**

"I'm not going."

Quinn sat at on the couch and glared defiantly at her worried friends.

"Quinn, you have to go," Rachel reasoned. "He's your dad." She sat down beside her and tried to take her hand but Quinn jerked it away angrily.

"I'm not going," she said again.

In the thirty minutes since her mother's phone call, Quinn had remained resolute.

_"… He's in the hospital," her mother had said. "He's had a heart attack and it doesn't look good."_

_Quinn had dropped the hand holding her phone to her side and stood motionless, a whirlwind of emotions swirling through her, whilst her mother began to cry in earnest. She had barely been aware of Kurt taking the phone out of her hand to speak with her mom whilst Blaine led her over to the couch to sit, and Rachel went running to get Santana._

Now they all stood around her like it was some kind of intervention; and no one seemed to be taking what she said seriously. She wanted to scream at them all that she was a grown woman who could do whatever she chose, but she couldn't seem to find the energy.

"Quinn, please…" Rachel begged with her brown eyes full of tears. That irritated Quinn. It wasn't Rachel's father in the hospital, it was Quinn's, and _she _wasn't crying. Kurt and Blaine were sharing glances and whispering about her, and Santana leaned against the kitchen counter, silently watching her. Quinn didn't want their pity. She just wanted them all to leave her alone.

She got up wordlessly, walked to her bedroom using slow, measured steps until she was out of sight of her roommates, and flung herself face down onto her bed. She didn't know how long she lay there before she heard the soft swish of the curtains parting.

"Go away, Santana," she growled into the pillow.

"It's not Santana, it's me," said a soft voice, and Quinn felt Kurt's gentle hand on her shoulder. She turned over to lie on her back and stare at the ceiling, not wanting to meet Kurt's gaze.

"I know why they sent you in," she said accusingly, "but I don't want to hear it, Kurt. It's not the same for me as it was for you when it was your dad in the hospital."

"You were there for me back then," Kurt reminded her. "Even when I was so angry with the world, you and Rachel and the others were still right there, every step of the way. You even prayed for him. We just want to be here for you."

"Please go away, Kurt," Quinn said flatly.

"It's no use, Kurt," came Santana's voice from a few feet away. Quinn glanced up in surprise. She hadn't heard Santana come in. "You may as well do as she says," Santana advised, "and leave her in here to wallow."

Quinn felt a flash of rage and she sat up with a scowl.

"Is that what you think I'm doing, wallowing?" she said angrily.

"Aren't you?" Santana shrugged.

"Santana!" Kurt was horrified by her heartlessness but Santana was unrepentant.

"Go away, Kurt!" both girls yelled in unison, but their eyes were fixed furiously on each other. Sensing defeat, and an impending fight, Kurt backed hurriedly out of the room.

Santana stood there with her arms folded, looking like she was the one who'd been wronged, and Quinn was so mad she wanted to scream. Instead, she grabbed the book of her nightstand and threw it at Santana. Her aim was terrible and it landed several feet away and skittered harmlessly across the floor. Santana didn't even wince.

"Feel better?" she asked pointedly. "Or do you need me to find you something else to throw?"

"I'm not going to see him," Quinn said, by means of a reply. "I don't care."

"So you've said, several times," Santana noted drily. "And why should you? The man kicked you out when you were sixteen and pregnant. You don't owe him anything. I don't know why your mom still bothers with him since the divorce either, to be honest. So, are we going out to dinner or not?"

Quinn was incredulous. "No, I'm not going to dinner," she said through gritted teeth. "I'm not hungry. And my mom isn't going to let a teensy little thing like a divorce stop her from playing the distraught wife – I'm sure she's loving the attention," she added bitterly.

"I thought you didn't care," Santana reminded her. "And you were hungry an hour ago."

"I don't care," Quinn repeated, but she was shocked to hear her voice waver. Santana sat down on the bed beside her and took her hand. Quinn didn't pull away from her touch the way she had shunned Rachel's. She suddenly realised what Santana was doing. She was trying to goad her into a reaction to get her to open up. It wasn't that she was being heartless at all, Santana's eyes gave away the true depth of the concern she had for Quinn. "I hate him!" she said viciously. "As far as I'm concerned he's been dead for three years already." Santana reached up and brushed away tears from Quinn's cheeks that she hadn't even realised she'd shed. "I'm not going, Santana," she said brokenly. Santana enveloped Quinn into her arms and held her as she began to sob.

When Quinn's tears eventually slowed and then ceased altogether Santana continued to hold her, rocking her and stroking her back in a soothing circular motion. After a while she got up and disappeared, returning with a glass of water and a damp washcloth. She wiped over Quinn's tearstained cheeks and made her drink the cool water before helping her to undress and get into her pajamas. Quinn felt numb and drained; she was barely able to lift her arms to enable Santana to pull the dress over her head.

She watched regretfully as Santana carefully folded the dress and placed it neatly over the back of a chair, rather than throwing it onto the floor, as was her usual custom. She knew it was unreasonable but she was angry at her father for his timing and his stupid, weak heart, and irritated with her mother for being the messenger. She was mad at herself for answering the phone, and finally she was frustrated with her roommates for not understanding her point of view. Why couldn't she just have had one night to be happy with Santana first, before all of this?

She lay down in bed and drew her knees up to her chest, feeling hollow and slightly detatched from reality as she watched Santana straighten up the dresser and take off her earrings and necklace. Santana changed her clothes as well, then climbed into bed beside Quinn and pulled her close. They lay in silence for a long time, and Quinn heard the sounds of her roommates getting ready for bed, before the apartment became still and quiet. Feeling safe and wanted in Santana's arms, Quinn began to talk.

"After he threw me out," Quinn said in a quiet, disjointed tone, "I promised myself that I'd never let him make me cry again. I told myself I didn't care that he didn't want me and I moved on and tried to forget I even had a father. My mom would still talk to him after the divorce, but he never even asked about me, not once. As far as he was concerned, I was noboby - he wanted nothing to do with me. I learned to live with that, and I was doing okay. I mean, I thought I was. But when I was in the hospital after my accident and I couldn't move, I was so scared. I'd lie there on my own at night not knowing if I'd ever walk again, and all I wanted…" her voice broke and she started to cry again, "… all I wanted was for my daddy to be there to h-hold me and t-tell me everything was going to be okay, but h-he n-never even came to see me." She was crying so hard that she struggled to continue with her story but she was determined to keep going. "What kind of parent doesn't even come and visit their daughter when she's lying paralysed in the fucking hospital!" Her heart was pounding in her chest and she shook violently at the recollection. Even now, almost eighteen months later, the memory of the tubes and the wires attached to her body, the beeping of the monitors, the pain and fear, and the hushed voices and worried faces still terrified her. Santana held her tightly and rocked her, and Quinn could feel Santana's tears dripping onto her arm as she cried with her.

"A pretty shitty one, who doesn't deserve to have someone as amazing as you for his daughter," Santana said hoarsely. Quinn looked up at her, and was stunned by the level of emotion she saw in her dark eyes.

A wave of pure need washed over Quinn and suddenly she was kissing Santana like her life depended on it and Santana was kissing her back just as hungrily. Their hands were groping and fondling everywhere they could reach; and Quinn stripped off her own vest, desperate to feel Santana's hands and mouth on her bare skin. She tangled her fingers into Santana's hair and climbed onto her lap to straddle her. Santana placed blistering kisses against Quinn's chest causing her to moan and gasp loudly at the sensations she was evoking. She rubbed up against Santana, desperate to deepen their connection.

And then Santana pushed her away abruptly. Quinn felt like her heart was breaking.

"Not like this," Santana said shakily. "You don't want it this way, Quinn. If you were thinking straight, you wouldn't be doing this, and I can't let you make a mistake."

"It wouldn't be a mistake," Quinn said hotly, trying to pull Santana back towards her, her eyes flashing with desire. "I need you."

"And you've got me," Santana promised, holding onto Quinn's shoulders to keep her at arm's length until the fight suddenly went out of her, and her hands fell into her lap. The brunette took Quinn's face in her hands and kissed her tenderly on the lips, caressing Quinn's jaw-line and cheekbones with her fingertips. "I'll be right here for as long as you'll have me, but I'm not going to have sex with you tonight."

Another wave of apathy and exhaustion hit Quinn and she let Santana lie her down and cover her with blankets. Santana lay down facing her and pulled her close so that their bodies melded and tangled together. They lay quietly but every so often Quinn would unexpectedly start to cry, her whole body shaking with silent sobs. Each time this happened, Santana simply tightened her hold on Quinn and whispered soothing words to her until she was able to regain her composure.

Finally, somewhere around dawn, Quinn fell asleep.

There were a blissful few seconds when Quinn woke up before she remembered the events of the previous evening and she suddenly felt sick to her stomach. She stirred fretfully and opened her eyes to see Santana's face inches from her own, her dark eyes watching Quinn intently.

"Did you stay awake all night?" Quinn asked in surprise, taking in the dark circles beneath Santana's eyes.

"I wanted to make sure you were okay," Santana admitted. "Are you okay?"

Quinn sighed.

"I'm going to have to go home, aren't I?" she said, resigned and defeated.

"I can go with you?" Santana offered but Quinn shook her head. She hadn't exactly been open with her mother about which friends she was staying with in New York. She knew her mom wouldn't approve of any of her roommates – the gay couple, the girl with two gay dads, and the lesbian. To her mother, that's the only label she'd be able to see. Quinn's father didn't have the monopoly on prejudice and homophobia in the Fabray household when Quinn was growing up. Her mom could dish it out just as venomously. She didn't want Santana to have to deal with that.

"No, I need to do this on my own," she said sadly.

Quinn packed an overnight bag whilst her roommates fussed around her, making her breakfast that she didn't want to eat. Rachel left for rehearsal close to tears again as she hugged Quinn goodbye, but Quinn's anger towards her had faded overnight, and she was grateful that her friend cared enough to be emotional.

Kurt and Blaine insisted on accompanying Quinn to the train station, so Santana pulled Quinn into their bedroom before she left for a private goodbye. They kissed for several minutes, reluctant to let go of each other.

"I'll be back in a few days," Quinn promised her. "As soon as I can, and then I want our first date."

Santana kissed her forehead and the tip of her nose.

"I promise you, it'll be perfect," she said with a wistful smile. "You'll see. Call me when you get there, okay?"

"I'll try." Quinn picked up the piece of paper on which Kurt had carefully written the details of her father's doctor and hospital room, and tucked them into her purse. She reached the curtains before turning and running back into Santana's arms for one last hug. "I'll miss you," she whispered in Santana's ear, squeezing her so tightly that she could feel her heart beat.

And then, Kurt was calling to her that she'd miss her train if they didn't leave now, so she reluctantly let go of Santana, picked up her bag, and turned to go.

Quinn tried to stay calm on the train ride, but she couldn't fight the waves of apprehension over going to see her father for the first time in more than three years. Her mother had told Kurt that he was asking for Quinn, and somehow that only made her more afraid. The hurt she'd revealed to Santana the previous night was still raw, and her empty stomach churned uncomfortably with nerves.

She was planning to get a cab from the station directly to the hospital but to her surprise a familiar face was there to meet her.

"Santana called me," Puck explained, as he took her overnight bag from her and gave her a quick hug. "She told me what time you were getting in and asked if I could give you a ride. How's your dad doing?"

"I don't know," Quinn admitted as they walked to Puck's car. "I only spoke to my mom last night and I didn't get any details. I guess I'll find out soon enough."

Puck tried to distract her during the ride to the hospital with lurid tales about his pool cleaning business that she didn't know whether to believe, but they kept her mind from dwelling on the present, and for that she was thankful. When they pulled up in the hospital parking lot however, reality hit Quinn with a jolt and she shuddered slightly as she contemplated going inside. Memories of her own stay in the hospital, coupled with heightened anxiety now that she was so close to seeing her father were making her feel sick.

"Do you want me to come with you?" Puck asked, in an uncharacteristically chivalrous move. Quinn knew her mom would not be happy to see the boy who'd impregnated her teenage daughter, but she suddenly couldn't face the thought of walking in alone so she nodded gratefully.

Puck kept his arm loosely around her shoulders for support as they headed through the double doors at the entrance and searched for the wing her father's room was in. After a few minutes, they turned a corner and Quinn spotted her mom and sister outside a room at the end of the corridor. Her sister was sitting in a chair, but her mom was pacing backwards and forwards, her arms folded tightly against her body. Neither of them saw Quinn until she was only a few feet away from them.

"Mom?" Quinn said quietly. "How's he doing?"

Her mother looked at her with red-rimmed eyes and an unreadable expression but it was her sister who spoke, in a low, bitter tone.

"You're too late, Lucy," she spat viciously. Her sister was the only person who still insisted on calling her by her given name, and Quinn knew it was because she couldn't bear to miss a single opportunity to remind her of the miserable, overweight, friendless little girl Quinn had been until her final year of middle school. Her sister had been an only child for seven years before Quinn had come along and usurped her as daddy's little princess, and she'd never forgiven her for it. When she was little, Quinn had wished desperately for them to be close, but she'd given up on that dream a long time ago.

"What do you mean?" Quinn asked, and even as she spoke the corridor started to spin and white spots clouded her vision.

"He died an hour ago." This time it was her mom who spoke, her voice harsh with grief. Quinn heard her blood pounding in her ears and she grabbed hold of Puck for support. Then everything went black.


	11. Chapter 11

_**Authors's Note: As always, thank you so much for reviewing / following my story, it means a lot. Please don't hate Quinn (or me) for her actions in this chapter, remember that she's hurting... and when Quinn is hurting she does some really stupid things!  
I wil try to get chapter 12 up later tonight, but for now, here is chapter 11...**_

**Chapter Eleven: Choices**

When Quinn came to she was lying in a hospital bed with an IV in her arm. Puck was sitting in a chair beside the bed but her mom and sister were nowhere to be seen.

"What happened?" Quinn asked groggily. Her head hurt and when she raised her fingers to her temple she found a tender lump. She winced in pain.

"You blacked out," Puck explained. "You've been out of it for about an hour. Hey, what are you doing?"

Quinn was sitting up and trying to get out of bed but a wave of nausea struck and she doubled over.

"They said you shouldn't get up," Puck warned but Quinn flashed him a glare.

"Where are my clothes?" she demanded, realizing she was wearing a blue and white hospital gown.

"Geez, stop yelling," Puck grumbled but he pointed at a small locker next to the bed. "Seriously, Quinn, I think you should lie down."

"I'd say that's a very good idea." A doctor in his early forties had been attracted by Quinn's shouting and he strode over to take Quinn's pulse. She glared at him too, but he seemed unaffected by her animosity. "Tell me, Miss Fabray, when is the last time you ate anything?" He shone a light in her eyes as he spoke, and made her follow his finger as he waved it in front of her face.

"Um… the day before yesterday," Quinn admitted with a groan. She'd been determined to look good on her first date with Santana and she'd skipped a couple of meals, and then since she'd heard about her dad, she hadn't had an appetite.

"Well, that explains your blood sugar levels," the doctor told her, in the same unruffled tone, scribbling something on the chart at the foot of her bed. "You're going to need to stay here overnight."

"No," Quinn said simply.

The doctor and Puck both raised eyebrows. Puck, who recognised Quinn's stubborn streak rearing its head, scooted his chair back a couple of feet.

"Miss Fabray, your blood sugar level is through the floor and you've taken a nasty bump to the head," the doctor said reasonably. "I really think you should stay in for observation."

"My father has just died," Quinn's voice modulated dangerously and she fixed the doctor with an icy stare. "I want you to take this tube out of my arm and bring me whatever paperwork I need to sign to get out of here. I need to be at home."

The doctor must have had teenage daughters because he seemed unconcerned by her ultimatum.

"I'll make you a deal," he said, checking the flow of liquid from the IV. "I'll have someone bring you something to eat. If you can keep it down and you don't have any nausea or dizziness, you can go when the IV bag has run through. It'll be about four hours. Okay?"

Four hours later, true to his word, the doctor discharged Quinn, with a stern lecture about the signs of a concussion she'd need to look out for. Puck dropped her off at her house, and told her he'd call to check up on her later. She told him it wouldn't be necessary.

Quinn turned her key in the lock and opened the front door. Her mother and sister were in the living room and her mom jumped up when she saw her.

"Oh, Quinnie, your poor head," she said melodramatically, touching her fingers to the throbbing lump on her temple. Quinn jerked away from the contact and her mom looked anguished.

"Sorry," Quinn mumbled guiltily. "It hurts, Mom." She glanced over at her sister. "Thanks for staying at the hospital to make sure I was okay," she said sarcastically. Her sister shrugged.

"Don't be a baby, Lucy, it's just a bump."

Quinn shook her head, too tired to argue.

"I'm going to lie down," she said, giving her mother a perfunctory hug. "My head's killing me." As she moved past her mom she caught the familiar sweet smell of alcohol wafting around her but, as was her usual custom, she pretended she hadn't noticed. She sighed and picked up her bag before heading up the stairs.

When she got to her room, Quinn dug her phone out of her bag and glanced at the missed calls and texts from her friends. She scrolled through the messages, most of which were from an increasingly concerned Santana wondering why Quinn hadn't called her back. The last one was from Blaine.

_Please call Santana asap – I'm not sure how much longer I can keep her from getting the next train to Ohio if she doesn't hear from you! Hope you're okay, we're all thinking of you xxxx_

Quinn pressed the button to send a message to multiple contacts and selected Santana, Rachel, Kurt and Blaine.

_My dad died today, _she texted. _I'm okay. Talk soon._

Before anyone had a chance to call or text her back, she turned off her phone, lay down on her cool, crisp bed-sheets and closed her aching eyes.

The next few days were a whirlwind of funeral arrangements and hosting friends of her parents who stopped by to pay their respects. Her sister had escaped home to her husband as soon as she could, finding their mother just as difficult to deal with as Quinn did. She'd be back for the funeral but Quinn was just glad not to have to spend any more time with her than absolutely necessary.

Then, it was the night before the funeral, and Quinn and her mother were sitting at the dinner table in silence, picking at a lasagne that one of her mom's acquaintances had dropped off. Her mom looked like she had something on her mind that she wanted to bring up, but wasn't sure how Quinn would respond. She started to say something several times before stopping and changing the subject to some piece of inane gossip in which Quinn had no interest. The longest conversation they'd had so far that evening was when her mom had told her that she'd made an appointment for Quinn with her hairstylist in the morning, before the funeral.

_"You'll look very pretty with bangs, darling, and they'll cover up that nasty bruise. We don't want people staring at your forehead and asking questions, do we?"_

_Quinn had wanted to scream at her mother that it was her hair, her head, and her Goddamned bruise, but she'd simply smiled sweetly and thanked her mom for her thoughtfulness._

Eventually, as Quinn stood up to clear the table her mom finally spoke her mind. She broached the subject innocently enough.

"What are your plans for after the funeral, sweetheart?" she asked. Quinn sat back down warily.

"I'm going back to New York," she said cautiously. "Probably tomorrow night."

"Quinnie, I'm not sure that you should be staying with _those_ sort of people," her mom said carefully. "Heaven only knows what sort of ideas they're putting into your head."

"Exactly what sort of people are they, Mom?" Quinn said, feeling her temper flare. She wasn't in the mood to deal with her mother's bigotry right now.

"Now, baby, don't be difficult," her mom chastized gently. "You know what I'm talking about. We have a reputation to uphold in this community…"

"Well, then I guess it's a good job I don't live in this community any more!" Quinn retorted. Leaving the dishes on the table, she stomped out of the dining room and up the stairs, slamming her bedroom door behind her.

Quinn suddenly felt incredibly lonely. She picked up her cell phone and thought about calling Santana, but when they'd spoken earlier that afternoon they'd had a fight, and Quinn was afraid that she'd say the wrong thing and make it worse.

_"I can still make it down for the funeral if I leave tonight," Santana had offered, after listening to Quinn complaining about her mother for several minutes. "I hate to think of you going through this on your own."_

_"No," Quinn told her, when what she really wanted to do was tell Santana to drop everything and get on the first train back to Ohio. "It's not necessary, really. I'll be running around sorting out caterers and the florist, and we've got family coming into town from all over. I probably wouldn't have any time to spend with you." _

_Santana wasn't buying Quinn's evasiveness. "I want to be there for you, Quinn, but it's not like I'd expect you to introduce me to everyone as your girlfriend," she'd said coldly, misconstruing Quinn's reluctance to have her there._

_"It's not that," Quinn had tried to reassure her desperately, but when she couldn't tell her the real reason, Santana had remained unconvinced. Quinn had promised her that she'd see her the next night and they'd talk about it then._

_At the end of the call, Quinn had told Santana that she missed her, but she'd heard the hesitation in Santana's voice before she responded in kind._

_Quinn had ended the call wishing she could convey to Santana just how bigoted her mom was, without hurting her too badly. Santana's Abuela had disowned her for coming out, and Quinn had seen how devastated Santana had been, and still was. If Quinn told her how unwelcome Santana, and indeed Kurt and Blaine, and even Rachel due to her family background, would be at her father's funeral, she knew that Santana would be crushed._

After a couple of hours wallowing in her room, Quinn's conscience got the better of her and she went to check on her mother. She found her passed out on the couch, a half empty bottle of vodka on the coffee table beside her. Feeling considerably older and wearier than her nineteen years, Quinn pulled off her mom's shoes and covered her with a blanket. She took a long drink from the bottle of vodka, feeling the liquid burn her throat. It seemed to help her headache a little so she poured out a glass for herself before tipping the rest down the kitchen sink. Setting a glass of water on the coffee table for when her mom woke up, Quinn locked up the house and turned off the lights before heading back up to bed, swallowing the rest of the vodka as she went.

She took a long, hot shower and had just finished blow-drying her hair when a loud scraping sound outside her open second floor window made her jump. There was a face staring in at her.

"Puck! What the hell are you doing?" Quinn hissed, as he struggled to climb into the room, landed awkwardly on her bedroom floor. She didn't know whether to be furious or amused.

"I came to check if you were okay," Puck told her, dusting himself off and straightening his leather jacket. Quinn was incensed.

"We do have a front door, you know, with a doorbell! You could've gotten yourself killed." She hit him hard for good measure.

Puck snorted dismissively but rubbed his arm where Quinn's fist had made contact.

"Like your mom would've let me over the threshold," he chuckled. "She's not likely to come in and check on you, is she?" He glanced warily at Quinn's closed bedroom door.

Quinn thought about her mother passed out downstairs, and shook her head sadly. Then she thought about how desperately she missed Santana, about how her head still hurt, and about how much she just wanted to go home. In just a few weeks, she'd come to think of the loft in New York as her home. She didn't want to be here, in her teenaged bedroom, surrounded by memories that she'd been running away from for years.

Something in her expression touched Puck and he took her in his arms. It felt so good to be held and Quinn buried her head against his chest. Although they hadn't always been close over the last few years, the bond they shared over their daughter was always there in the background and she knew he cared for her. He planted a soft kiss on the top of her head and she looked up at him, her eyes shining as she began to cry.

Puck kissed the tender bruise on her forehead and kissed her wet cheeks. He kissed her lips and she tasted the salt water of her tears. More than anything, Quinn didn't want to be alone tonight.

She took him by the hand and led him over to her bed, lying back on her pillows as he settled himself over her.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Puck asked her apprehensively. Quinn knew she had him right where she wanted him when his voice wavered. He would never turn her down, not like Santana had on her last night in New York. Feeling numb and disconnected, she kissed Puck hungrily, and guided his hands onto her body.

"I'm sure."

"Are you okay?" Puck asked her afterwards, trying to take her in his arms. Quinn pushed him away and rolled over to face the other way. "Quinn, talk to me."

"I want you to go." Her voice was cold and emotionless. "Leave. Now!"

She felt Puck get up and heard the rustle of his clothes as he dressed. He tried to speak to her again but she ignored him and after a minute he gave up and headed back out of the window where he'd entered an hour earlier.

Quinn pulled a sheet over her naked body and curled into a ball. Shaking, and burying her head in her pillow to muffle her sobs, she cried herself to sleep.


	12. Chapter 12

_**Author's Note: Okay, so Quinn sleeping with Puck seems to have caused a bit of controversy, LOL. I didn't intend for that to happen when I started writing the story, but as I got to that point it just felt like something she would do. As I said at the start of the last chapter, I feel like Quinn always does stupid things whenever she's hurting (e.g. getting a Ryan Seacrest tattoo or trying to get Beth back by planting tabasco sauce and books about devil worshipping in her adoptive mother's apartment!) Hopefully, this chapter will start to make up for it though, and I promise some happier times ahead (for a while at least)!**_

**Chapter Twelve: Wherever You Will Go**

Quinn looked critically at her reflection in the full length mirror in her bedroom and barely recognized the girl starting back at her. In the past five days she'd lost several lbs from her already slender frame and her black dress hung loosely. She had dark shadows beneath her eyes and her complexion was pale and washed out. Her new haircut, courtesy of her mom's stylist, fell just below her shoulders with long wavy layers and bangs just long enough to brush her eyelashes. Her mom would be happy that it covered the ugly bruise above her left eye.

It was more than just her physical appearance however. Quinn didn't know who she was turning into. Using someone for sex, cheating on someone she really cared about in the process - she really didn't want to be that kind of girl. She was tired of worrying and over-analyzing and she was sick to death of crying.

She closed her eyes and prayed, making a deal with God that if He helped her get through today, she would be a better person. She just hoped He was listening. She fastened her gold cross around her neck and attempted a smile at the girl in the mirror. It was only a small smile and it didn't reach her eyes but the girl in the mirror smiled back.

The funeral went much as Quinn expected, people talking about what a wonderful man her father had been and how it was a terrible shame that he'd been taken before his time. The fact that her father had been a bully, a bigot, and a hypocrite was glossed over as the priest eulogised about a good man who loved his family and his church.

Quinn sat dry eyed in the front row whilst her mom and her sister wept beside her. It wasn't until the end of the service when they were leaving to go to the cemetery that Quinn noticed the familiar face at the back of the church. It touched her more than she could say that Mr Schuester had come along to the church. He'd never met her father so she knew he was there for her. She wanted to ask him how he'd known about the service but her mother had hold of her hand and was dragging her to a waiting car for the private burial.

An hour later, they arrived at her mom's house (Quinn could no longer think of it as her house) for the wake and her mom headed straight for the bar. Tired of babysitting her, Quinn wandered outside in the direction of the pool and hot tub. She sat down on the low wall separating the patio from the grass and looked out over the garden. Most of the mourners stayed inside as the day was overcast and cool, but one or two drifted over to talk to her and commiserate over the terrible sense of loss they thought she must feel. Her responses were perfunctory at best and she was soon left alone with only her thoughts for company.

"Quinn?" a familiar voice snapped her out of her daze. Will Schuester stood on the patio behind her and he wasn't alone. He was flanked by most of the current members of the McKinley Glee Club. Quinn felt her first real smile of the day light up her features as Mr Schue gave her a hug. She asked him the question she'd wanted to know earlier at the church.

"How did you know?"

"Rachel called me," he admitted. "She and Santana thought you might be able to use the support, even if you wouldn't admit it." Quinn's smile widened, hearing Santana's name.

"Thank you for coming," she said, hugging Tina, Artie, and Sam, one after another. "It means a lot."

"We wanted to be here for you," Tina told her. "You'd do the same for any one of us."

Sam cleared his throat, and gestured to the long dark haired girl Quinn seemed to remember was called Marley. "We wanted to do something for you," Sam told her, as Artie produced a CD player and pressed play. Marley opened her mouth and began to sing, her beautiful voice clear and melodious.

_So lately, I've been wondering_

_Who will be there to take my place?_

_When I'm gone, you'll need love_

_To light the shadows on your face_

_If a great wave shall fall_

_It'll fall upon us all_

_And between the sand and stone_

_Could you make it on your own?_

The rest of the Glee Club harmonized along with her on the chorus.

_If I could, then I would_

_I'll go wherever you will go_

_Way up high, or down low_

_I'll go wherever you will go_

Sam sang the bridge before the rest of the gang joined in again for the final chorus.

_Run away with my heart_

_Run away with my hope_

_Run away with my love_

_If I could, then I would_

_I'll go wherever you will go_

_Way up high, or down low_

_I'll go wherever you will go_

_I'll go wherever you will go_

As Marley's voice rang out on the final notes, Quinn felt the Glee Club members crowd around her to squeeze her tightly in a big group hug. Sam pushed through them to whisper into her ear.

"Blaine told me to tell you that Santana chose the song," he said. "I don't know why, but Blaine said it was important that you knew."

Quinn didn't get back to the loft in New York until almost midnight but her roommates were all waiting up for her. They crowded round and made a fuss of her, all but Santana who held back slightly.

Quinn shot her a tentative smile and Santana stepped forward to give her a brief hug. When the others weren't looking, Santana gave Quinn's hand a reassuring squeeze, and Quinn was relieved that their fight on the phone seemed to be forgotten.

As she looked at her friends, Quinn remembered what she'd promised herself that morning. God had helped her to get through the day, and now she felt it was her turn to uphold her end of the bargain.

"I'm so sorry I was a bitch to you all before I left," the new-and-improved Quinn told them all but it was Santana whose gaze she held as she spoke.

"We're just glad you're okay," Blaine told her, giving her shoulders a squeeze. "You are okay, aren't you?"

"I'm working on it," Quinn told him with a wry smile.

"You're looking thin though," Kurt said, his brows puckered with worry. "We're going to need to feed you up."

"I'm fine, Kurt," Quinn said, shaking her head at him.

"Well, I'm glad you're back Quinn, really," said Rachel, getting to her feet, "but as a professional actress, I really do need to get eight hours of quality sleep if I'm to perform at my best and I still have to do my nightly cleansing rituals so if you'll excuse me…" Kurt, Blaine, and Santana burst into raucous laughter as Rachel glared at them indignantly. The new-and-improved Quinn tried to nod understandingly but she caught Santana's eye and her resolve slipped. She began to giggle, attempting unsuccessfully to hide the fact behind her hands. Rachel pouted, but her roommates' giddiness was infectious and she laughed as well. "I'm going to bed," she said finally, when everyone had calmed down a little. "It's good to have you home, Quinn."

Kurt and Blaine started to talk about turning in as well, so Quinn hugged them goodnight and went into the bathroom to change. When she went into her bedroom, Santana was already in bed, but she looked up at Quinn expectantly.

"I've missed you," she said shyly. Quinn climbed into bed beside her and tucked Santana's shiny dark hair behind her ear gently.

"I've missed you too," she admitted, not taking her eyes off Santana's face, wanting to memorize every last detail. "Thank you for my song, by the way. I'm sorry you weren't there to sing it to me."

"It's okay, Q," Santana assured her. "I don't blame you." There was a moment of silence, where both girls were lost in their own thoughts. Quinn thanked God for listening to her prayer that morning, as she laid her head against Santana's shoulder.

"You changed your hair." Santana tugged gently on Quinn's bangs. "I like it, it's hot."

"Yeah?" Quinn grinned. "I'm glad you like it." Suddenly, Santana's smile faded as she brushed Quinn's bangs to one side and touched the ugly purple welt on her temple.

"What did you do to yourself?" Santana asked, her dark eyes full of concern.

"It's nothing," Quinn said dismissively. "I fell down, that's all. I've had worse. Do you remember when I fell off the top of the pyramid in Freshman year?"

Santana blushed. "Um, that may have been my fault. I dropped you," she admitted with a grimace.

"Why would you do that?" exclaimed Quinn with a surprised smile.

"You stole my lip gloss," Santana admitted. "It was cherry flavored and it was my favorite!"

"So, you just dumped me off the top of the pyramid?" Quinn marvelled at Santana's audacity.

"Sorry," she smirked, and Quinn hit her with her pillow.

"Ouch," Santana complained, and Quinn laughed out loud.

"It serves you right."

Santana's eyes glittered mischievously and she fired her own pillow at Quinn. Quinn caught it and a brief tug of war ensued, and Santana emerged victorious, straddling Quinn's waist as she held the pillow out of reach. Both girls were laughing and breathing hard.

"I really want to kiss you now," Quinn whispered breathlessly. Santana chuckled.

"I'm not stopping you."

Quinn leaned up and grazed her lips against Santana's, feeling the familiar tingles start up in her belly. She kissed her again, her tongue requesting access to Santana's wonderful mouth. Santana kissed her back with equal enthusiasm, tilting Quinn's head slightly so that her tongue could do some exploring of its own. Her hand cupped Quinn's cheek tenderly and when she broke the kiss to rain butterfly kisses over Quinn's throat, Quinn planted a kiss on Santana's palm.

They snuggled down under the blankets still clinging on to each other, as Santana reached out to turn off the light.

"Never let go of me, Santana," Quinn whispered sleepily as Santana played with her hair.

"Never," murmured Santana agreeably.


	13. Chapter 13

_**Author's Note: Okay, so I wasn't going to post this until tomorrow but it seems that some readers are still upset about Quinn's choice to sleep with Puck. I know it wasn't her finest hour but she was grieving and confused. Hopefully, this chapter will show that she is truly remorseful over her actions, but she does want to move on and try to put it behind her. As I see it, all Quinn has ever wanted is love and acceptance, and she's never really felt that she had that unconditionally, so she does stupid things to try to get it.  
There will only be one update per day from tomorrow for at least the next few days, as I've run out of chapters in hand, and I won't have a lot of time to write... but in the meantime, hope you all enjoy this chapter :)  
Oh, and one last thing, apologies for the point at which this chapter ends... but hopefully the wait for chapter 14 will be worth it!  
**_

**Chapter Thirteen: If at First You Don't Succeed**

"What about next Tuesday?" Quinn asked, biting her lower lip thoughtfully as she scanned through her diary. "I get off work at six." It was the day after she'd arrived back in New York and she was lying on the cool Central Park grass with her head in Santana's lap, as the girls compared their schedules in an attempt to re-book their aborted first date.

"No, I promised Alana I'd cover her shift on Tuesday night," Santana said with a sigh. "I could do Thursday, I have dance class until seven but I could meet you after?"

"Rachel's taking me to see Wicked on Thursday," Quinn groaned. "She said I have to see at least one Broadway show while I'm here."

"Sunday?" Santana suggested. "That's my best and final offer unless I can convince someone to cover one of my weekend shifts."

"I'm working Sunday." Quinn threw her diary onto the ground in frustration. "This is impossible. I'm going to be seventy before our schedules get in synch." She pouted. "Will you still want me when I'm old and wrinkled?"

Santana pretended to think about it for a moment, and Quinn glared at her. Laughing, Santana bent forwards to kiss Quinn lightly on the mouth. Quinn reached her hand behind Santana's head, holding her in place to deepen the kiss. The angle was awkward for both of them but they managed several seconds before reluctantly letting go. Quinn felt a little flutter of excitement in her stomach at kissing Santana in public. Even though she'd never see any of the park's visitors ever again, it was still a new experience to be so open with her affections.

Santana had admitted to her that morning that their roommates knew about their fledgling relationship, and somehow that knowledge had given Quinn the confidence not to care what other people thought about them as a couple.

_"Don't hate me," Santana had said as Quinn stood at the stove and stirred the pan of scrambled eggs she was making for them both for breakfast - after Santana claimed she didn't know how to go about making the dish. "Berry and Lady-Hummel kind of found out about us whilst you were gone."_

_Quinn had frozen in shock at Santana's words and it was only the smell of burning eggs sticking to the pan that snapped her out of it. She took the pan off the stove and tried to find the right words to address the issue._

_"How?" she had said finally._

_Santana sat down on one of the dining chairs and she looked warily at Quinn before she started to explain. She'd told Quinn how freaked out she'd been when Quinn hadn't returned any of her calls and texts. Blaine had tried to cover for her, but when they'd got Quinn's text to say her father had died, Santana hadn't been able to keep her emotions in check._

_"I knew how much you'd be hurting and I just wanted to be there for you," she'd admitted. "I was all set to go catch a train, Blaine tried to stop me and we got into a fight. Then Kurt got involved to stand up for Blaine and it all just kind of came out. I'm so sorry, Q."_

_"What did they say?" Quinn had wanted to know, her stomach churning anxiously._

_"I think Kurt already kind of suspected something was going on," Santana had explained, "but he and Blaine got into a fight when he found out that Blaine already knew. And Rachel didn't say much but I think she's just happy that she doesn't have to compete with you over guys any more. I mean, between you and Little Miss Diva, there's no contest, right? Anyone would be crazy not to pick you."_

_"So, why didn't they say anything last night?" Quinn worried. "Are you sure they're really okay with it?"_

_Santana stood up and crossed the room to where Quinn stood leaning against the counter for support._

_"When are you going to realize that all any of us want is for you to be happy?" she whispered hoarsely, taking Quinn into her arms and holding her._

_Quinn had smiled against Santana's shoulder, and kissed the soft skin at the crook of her neck before she answered._

_"I am happy." And despite everything, despite all the reasons she had to be otherwise, she really was happy._

In the present, Quinn reluctantly removed her head from Santana's lap and sat up, brushing stray blades of grass from her skirt. She remembered their conversation from breakfast time and she had really meant what she said. She was happy. She didn't need to wait for the perfect moment to have the perfect first date with Santana – she wanted to get started now.

"Why don't we just make this our first date?" she suggested, squeezing Santana's hands as she grinned at her hopefully. "We're in a fantastic city, the sun is shining, and I'm with a beautiful, amazing girl. That sounds like a perfect first date to me."

Santana bit her lip as she considered Quinn's proposal, then her face lit up in a beautiful smile that made Quinn's stomach do flip-flops.

'Operation first date' as Quinn had christened it, to much derision and teasing about Quinn's inner geek from Santana, was so far proving to be the best first date Quinn had ever had. Santana bought her a bunch of yellow roses from a street vendor, and Quinn bought them both hot dogs which they sat by the lake and ate in the sunshine.

Afterwards, Quinn lay on her stomach on the grass and told Santana all about the classes she was taking at Yale, and how much she was learning as a drama major.

Santana reciprocated by telling Quinn that she was thinking of applying to NYU for late admission in the fall. She said this shyly, as though it was something to be ashamed of, and Quinn understood that Santana felt insecure about her academic career. She responded enthusiastically to the idea, maybe a little too enthusiastically, as Santana turned red and started to change the subject.

Santana let Quinn take her to her favorite bookstore, and didn't grumble too much when Quinn got lost in her own little world, wandering through the stacks. At one point, Santana disappeared, saying she had to make a phone call, piquing Quinn's curiosity as to what it was that Santana was doing that she didn't want her to know about. Santana remained evasive and quickly changed the subject when she returned, but she had a smirk on her face and was obviously very pleased with herself about something.

As the girls walked back from the subway station to the loft hand in hand, Santana announced that she was starving.

"I'm going to order us a pizza," she announced, squeezing her cell phone out of the pocket of her skinny jeans. "What do you want on it?"

"I'm not really hungry," Quinn said absently, distracted by the way Santana's thumb was tracing concentric circles across her palm.

"Kurt was right," Santana told her softly, "you do need feeding up – we don't want any more fainting incidents." Quinn had finally given in that afternoon and told Santana the whole story about her bump on the head, although she'd conveniently left out the fact that Puck had been there.

Santana's words caused a pang of guilt in Quinn as she unknowingly conjured up memories of Puck. Quinn regretted sleeping with Puck more than anything, and she would've given almost anything to take it back. She felt sick to her stomach at the thought of his hands on her bare skin, and was terribly ashamed of herself for making such a selfish and foolish choice. She also knew that Santana must never find out what she'd done. Quinn had ruined two relationships by cheating already, but what she felt for Santana was already so much more intense, she knew that her previous relationships couldn't compare – she stood to lose so much more than she ever had before.

"Q? Hurry up and make a decision!" Santana said, giving her a little shake. "We can choose one more topping – what do you want?" She had the phone against her ear and she was shaking her head at what she took to be Quinn's lack of decision-making skills.

"Bacon?" Quinn suggested hopefully, and Santana laughed.

By the time Quinn and Santana were arguing over the last piece of pizza, the sun was starting to set, casting a soft golden glow throughout the loft. Quinn glanced at the clock, frowning slightly as she realised the time.

"Not that I'm complaining about being alone with you," she said as they cuddled on the couch, "but I'm starting to get worried about the others. They should be home by now."

She felt Santana tense slightly against her and the brunette offered her a sheepish smile.

"I can explain that," she offered, and Quinn raised an eyebrow expectantly.

Santana confessed that her illicit phone call that afternoon had been to their roommates and that she had strongly _suggested_ that they might like to make themselves scarce that evening. Quinn didn't know whether to be embarrassed or impressed at Santana's audacity but, as Santana caught her lips in a soft kiss, she decided she was grateful for Santana's ingenuity. She relaxed into the kiss, laying back against the couch cushions and barely noticing the springs digging uncomfortably into her hip.

How long they were making out for, Quinn didn't know, but when they finally parted with swollen lips and rumpled clothing it was dark outside. Santana was idly caressing the delicate skin of her outer thigh, and she rested her head against Quinn's chest.

Quinn stroked Santana's hair, stretching out long, silky strands and letting them fall through her fingers. Now that night had fallen, both of them were suddenly shy.

"Thank you for today," Quinn said quietly, as Santana kissed her collar bone. "It was a good first date. I _really_ didn't want to wait any longer."

Santana looked up at her, and Quinn felt a thrill shudder through her at the intensity in her expression.

"I'm glad we didn't wait, too," Santana said, her voice low and tender. "I want to be with you, Quinn."

"I want that too," Quinn admitted. She bit her lower lip and elicited a groan from Santana.

"You look so sexy when you do that," Santana admitted.

"Oh really?" Quinn said with a giggle. "What else do I do that's sexy?"

"Well," Santana began thoughtfully, "there's the way you play with your hair and twist it around your finger…"

"Like this?" Quinn asked, coiling a strand into a spiral and then letting it fall. She heard Santana's breathing hitch. "What else?"

"The way you lower your head and look at me through your eyelashes," Santana disclosed, blushing slightly. "You do it so innocently but when you look at me like that all I want to do is take you to bed and rip your clothes off."

Quinn felt herself get pleasantly warm at Santana's words. Her skin tingled where Santana was touching her, and her body flooded with desire. She bent her head and fixed Santana with her best come-and-get-me expression.

"Like this?" she asked again. Santana nodded wordlessly. Quinn smiled at her. "Santana?" she said breathlessly, "take me to bed."


	14. Chapter 14

_**Author's Note: Okay, to address some of the feedback, this is the last time I'm going to comment on the cheating issue. Just to be clear I don't personally advocate or condone cheating, although I felt so guilty for upsetting some of you that I almost felt like I did cheat on someone, LOL! Quinn's actions in the story were not premeditated and she didn't set out to hurt Santana. They were the actions of a lonely, insecure, grieving girl.  
**_

_**Yes, Quinn behaved terribly, and yes, she feels remorseful about it. I've touched upon that already and I will do so again in this chapter and beyond. Whilst I don't condone or agree with her actions, I do understand them, and given some of the feedback and PMs I've received, at least some of you guys do too.  
**_

_**Of course, Quinn is going to have to live with the guilt over her actions, and, if you stick with the story you'll see that there will be consequences for her to live with. **_

_**I do value all your feedback, even if you don't agree with Quinn's actions, so thank you all. Please remember, this is just an interpretation of how I feel these characters may behave in these situations. You may not agree, but do you agree with every decision the characters make on the show? The sad fact is, Quinn has cheated twice before, and it is a part of her character. She makes bad decisions as every teenager does at one time or another.**_

_**All that said, I hope you enjoy chapter 14.**_

**Chapter Fourteen: Until the Sun Comes Up**

Santana took Quinn by the hand and led her into their bedroom. Quinn was surprised to feel Santana trembling, and she kissed her softly on the lips. She took a few steps back, and without taking her eyes off Santana she lifted her dress over her head and tossed it carelessly aside. In that moment, all she wanted was Santana. She was disgusted with herself for her actions before the funeral, and she hated herself for being weak and selfish. But as she stripped off her clothes, the only thing on her mind was how much she wanted to make it up to Santana. If she lived to be a hundred, she would never stop trying to atone, even if she could never tell Santana what she'd done.

_The train ride back to New York had been one of the most difficult journeys Quinn had ever taken. For the first time that day she was alone with her thoughts and no distractions. She was still reeling from the previous night, and full of self-loathing. It wasn't a new feeling for Quinn, but it was the first time since she'd arrived in New York at the start of the summer that she'd let those dark thoughts creep into her mind. She wasn't good enough for Santana. She hadn't been good enough for her father either, or for Finn. They'd both abandoned her when she needed them, and if Santana knew the truth, Quinn was in no doubt that Santana would leave her too._

_Twenty-four hours earlier the only thing that had been keeping her going was the thought of going home to Santana, but now she was dreading it. How would she be able to look Santana in the eye? Quinn had dug a piece of paper and a pen out of her bag, and she started to write with a shaking hand that had nothing to do with the vibrations of the train. _

_'Dear Santana,  
__I've let you down in the worst way imaginable and I am truly sorry, more so than you'll ever know. You are the best thing in my life. You see me as the person I want to be, not the person I am. I wish I were that person. You make me want to be better. You're so much stronger than I am, than I can ever be. That's one of the things I admire most about you.  
__There's nothing I can say to change what I've done. I didn't plan it, and it didn't mean anything to me. I never, ever meant to hurt you.  
__Please say you'll forgive me, and I promise you I will never do anything like this again...'_

_As she wrote, tears dripped onto the paper, smudging the ink. Quinn looked down at the letter and felt sick. How could she tell Santana the truth and lose the only good thing in her life?_

_So, Quinn had done the only thing she could think of to do. She'd crumpled the letter and tossed it in the trash. She'd made a promise to herself to be the best girlfriend she could to Santana, but she could never reveal her betrayal. She'd have to lock it away inside, in the same place she'd kept the hurt and pain of her father's rejection for the past three years. She was going to move on and pretend she'd never even seen Puck. It would be hard, Quinn knew, but she didn't think she could live with the alternative._

Santana's expression was full of hunger and want as Quinn stood in front of her in her white lace bra and panties. She closed the gap on them in one long stride and kissed her so forcefully that it took Quinn's breath away. Quinn's hands found the hem of Santana's shirt and tugged impatiently, desperate to feel the other girl's skin against hers. Desire made Quinn clumsy and she fumbled with the button on Santana's jeans until Santana took over and shimmied out of her tight pants.

At the first contact of Santana's flushed and heated skin with her own, Quinn felt like she was going to explode. She fell back onto the bed, taking Santana with her as the brunette peppered kisses wherever she could touch on Quinn's face and neck. She kissed her eyelids and her nose, the fading bruise on her temple, the curve of her jaw, before suckling against Quinn's pulse point and causing Quinn to let out an audible gasp of pleasure and grind her hips upwards to meet Santana's.

Quinn reached out to pull Santana closer, desperate to increase the friction between them, but Santana caught Quinn's wrists and held them down.

"All in good time," she panted, between kisses. Quinn mewled in frustration but it turned into a moan as Santana began to gently squeeze her breasts through the fabric of her bra.

"Santana, I need you to touch me," Quinn begged, arching her back and gritting her teeth at the sensations Santana was evoking within her body. "I need your hands on me."

"I am touching you, Q," Santana replied with a low chuckle. All the same, she slid her hands around to unhook Quinn's bra and Quinn felt the cool night-time air soothe her heated skin. "Is this what you had in mind?" Santana asked as she brushed her fingertips over Quinn's naked breasts, making small circles over her aroused nipples. Quinn could only nod in response, closing her eyes and letting her head fall backwards as her body tingled with pleasure. She felt Santana's hair brush her exposed chest as she bent to whisper in her ear. "Open your eyes," she instructed huskily. "I want you to watch."

Santana began to kiss her way down Quinn's body until she reached the barrier of her underwear. As Quinn looked on, Santana hooked her fingers under the lacy material and eased them over her hips and down her thighs. When she had removed them, she paused and her eyes travelled the length of Quinn's body. Quinn felt wetness pooling between her thighs without Santana even touching her. Just lying there naked and seeing the look on her face was enough to take her to the brink.

Santana settled herself at the apex of Quinn's legs and parted them gently. She kissed Quinn's inner thigh, just inches from where Quinn most wanted her to touch, and Quinn squirmed against her. When Santana slowly ran a finger between her slick folds, Quinn couldn't stop herself from crying out. Santana teased her for a few seconds, coming close but never quite hitting the spot that would send her over the edge.

"Please, Santana," Quinn begged breathlessly, bucking her hips against Santana's fingers and mouth. Achingly slowly Santana placed a kiss against Quinn's center, feeling her shudder and gasp before licking and stroking Quinn's most intimate places with her tongue. With a cry, Quinn felt the pressure that had been building low in her belly spill over and she was overcome by waves of pleasure that took her breath away. Santana pulled herself back up Quinn's body to capture her lips as she rode out her orgasm. Quinn tasted herself on Santana's tongue and just like she had on the night of the wedding, she saw stars.

Still panting and tingling from the most intense orgasm she'd ever experienced, Quinn trailed her hands across Santana's toned abs, committing to memory the contours of her body. She caressed Santana's full breast through the fabric of her bra, and when Santana caught her lower lip between her teeth and groaned, Quinn felt another rush of heat low in her belly. Just touching Santana was getting her so turned on, she couldn't wait to experience the sensations using her lips and tongue would bring. As an experiment she lowered her mouth to Santana's still covered nipple, and Santana gasped out her name. Wanted more, Quinn quickly divested Santana of her bra, and latched her mouth back onto Santana's breast, swirling her tongue over the aroused nub.

Suddenly, Santana was pinning her to the mattress again and their legs intertwined so that Santana's thigh was pressing against Quinn in a most pleasurable fashion. Quinn hadn't known it was possible that she could become aroused again so quickly, and it took all her willpower to focus on her plan for Santana, rather than simply push herself harder against the brunette.

Quinn ran her hands over Santana's rear, sliding them under her panties and around to grab hold of Santana's hips. If she didn't stop Santana from writhing above her this was all going to be over far quickly than she had planned.

"Please, Santana," she murmured throatily. "I want to touch you. Let me touch you." She tugged Santana's underwear down to her knees and Santana kicked them off, not caring where they ended up.

"Oh God," hissed Santana in return as Quinn's slender fingers found their way to her center. Santana pressed down into Quinn's hand as her own fingers slid between Quinn's slick thighs. They moved together in unison and Santana captured Quinn's mouth to kiss her with more passion than she'd ever experienced. This time when she saw the stars, Santana was mumbling her name over and over, and Quinn knew that she'd taken Santana with her.

Through the course of the night Quinn lost count of how many different times and ways they made love. Every time she thought her passion was sated, Santana would touch her or kiss her and the embers would flicker into life again. Sometimes, one or both of them would sleep for a time, before the touching and exploring would start all over again. The sun had risen in the East before Quinn finally collapsed exhausted in Santana's arms and fell into a blissful sleep.

Santana stirring woke Quinn up and she stretched languidly, her body still pleasantly loose from their activities of the night before. Quinn wasn't quite sure how to behave, and she gave Santana a tentative smile.

_The morning after the wedding that wasn't Santana and Quinn had been unnaturally polite towards each other, both offering to let the other use the bathroom first. Quinn had won out, as it was her hotel room, so Santana had gone to take a shower._

_Quinn had blushed and averted her eyes when Santana got out of bed to gather her clothing and walk to the bathroom. Once the water was running, Quinn had jumped up to search for her clothes which were scattered across the floor. She'd wrapped her body in a bed-sheet to save her modesty and as soon as Santana had emerged from the bathroom Quinn had dashed inside and locked the door._

_She hadn't regretted sleeping with Santana, not for a second, but after she'd shrugged off the night as an experiment and a one time thing, Quinn didn't feel she had any right to expect anything from Santana. And Santana had agreed after all, she'd laughed along with Quinn, and made it clear it had just been a one night stand…_

"Hi," Quinn said shyly as Santana reached out to smooth her messy hair.

"Hi yourself," Santana retorted with a gentle smile. "So last night was fun, huh?"

Quinn blushed.

"Last night was… amazing," she admitted.

"Well I am pretty fantastic," Santana joked and Quinn couldn't help but laugh.

"Yeah, you are," she noted, stroking her hand over Santana's exposed shoulder and delighting in noting the goose-bumps that arose at her touch.

"You were pretty amazing yourself," Santana offered and Quinn felt pleasant little butterflies in her stomach at Santana's words.

"So… do you want to… maybe try that again sometime?" Quinn asked with a chuckle.

"Try and stop me," Santana murmured, her lips just below Quinn's ear. She kissed the sensitive spot just behind Quinn's earlobe and caused her to hum appreciatively.

"I didn't mean right now," giggled Quinn as Santana's hand drifted up the inside of her thigh.

"Why not?" Santana was unrepentant.

"Because," Quinn said with a gasp as Santana's talented fingers journeyed further north, "we have roommates who will… notice if we… stay in bed all day and I… mmmm... I have to… oh God… go to work in a few hours… and I… I…" and with that she lost all coherent thought and abandoned herself to the waves of pleasure Santana was conjuring within her.

Eventually, Quinn did manage to tear herself away from Santana for long enough to grab a quick shower and dress for work. She couldn't keep from smiling to herself as she went about her morning routine.

When she emerged from the bathroom, Santana was in the kitchen wearing shorts and a tank top, and eating cereal out of the packet while Rachel whined at her to stop.

"We all have to eat that, Santana!" Rachel chastized, but Santana simply shrugged and continued to eat.

"Morning Quinn," Kurt said, looking up from his copy of the New York Times. "You look… um, radiant this morning." He caught Blaine's eye and they shared a private joke.

Quinn's cheeks colored as she remembered somewhere around three in the morning when Santana's tongue had hit a particularly sensitive spot and Quinn had been unable to keep from crying out Santana's name. She realised that her roommates must have heard her, and she grimaced with embarrassment. She sneaked a look at Santana, and to her surprise, the brunette was scarlet as well.

Kurt, Blaine, and Rachel all wore matching grins, and Quinn couldn't help but see the funny side. She sat down at the kitchen table and shrugged nonchalantly.

"Maybe you guys should invest in some earplugs," she said innocently, and Santana snorted with laughter.


	15. Chapter 15

_**Author's Note: Thank you so much for all your feedback and sticking with my story. Here's chapter 15 - hope you like it... I may be able to get an extra chapter up later today as well. Happy reading.**_

**Chapter Fifteen: Storm Clouds May Gather**

**Two weeks later...**

It was raining. Wind howled though the gaps in the old window frames and lightning flashed, illuminating the dreary sky for a split second. The air was warm and humid, and the apartment felt sticky and uncomfortable as the summer storm raged outside. Quinn sat at the kitchen table with her laptop, checking her email whilst Santana paced the loft like a caged animal. Quinn shook her head indulgently as Santana passed through her field of vision.

"Wearing out the floor isn't going to make it stop raining any quicker," she noted drily, and Santana pouted sulkily. She sidled up behind Quinn and wrapped her arms around her, resting her chin on the top of Quinn's head.

"I'm bored," she said with a dramatic sigh. "We hardly get any time together and now we're stuck inside this stupid apartment."

"So, go read a book," was Quinn's suggestion, "or you could tidy up in the bedroom, I think you have more clothes on the floor than you do in the closet."

Santana had other ideas apparently because she slid her hand down the front of Quinn's shirt.

"Santana!" Quinn squealed, politely but firmly removing Santana's hand from her breast. "I'm busy."

"Doing what?" Santana pushed Quinn's hair aside to suckle against her neck and Quinn closed her eyes appreciatively as Santana's tongue stroked her sensitive skin. Then suddenly, she stopped.

Quinn turned around to see Santana was reading the email on the screen, a dark scowl clouding her expression, and she quickly scanned the email herself to see what was causing Santana's sudden mood shift.

_Dear Miss Fabray,_

_We would like to remind you that online registration for the fall semester begins on August 23. Please ensure that you meet any pre-requisites before registering for classes as failure to do so could impede the registration process. Teaching will commence on Wednesday, August 28…_

Quinn still didn't understand why Santana was so upset by an email from Yale about semester dates, but her stomach began to clench nervously as she took in Santana's obvious distress.

"San, what is it? What's wrong?" she pressed gently, her eyes wide with concern.

"August twenty-third," Santana said in a low tone. "That's less than three weeks away."

All at once, Quinn understood. Not once in the past several weeks had either of them discussed the end of summer and Quinn's return to college. It hadn't even crossed Quinn's mind.

The last couple of weeks in particular had been some of the happiest of Quinn's life. Only the pangs of sadness about her father and the deep regret she felt over sleeping with Puck had stopped things from being truly perfect. The feelings of sadness or panic would hit her at unexpected moments and leave her trembling and gasping for air. Despite everything that had happened, Quinn was still trying to come to terms with the fact that she had never gotten to see her father or say goodbye. She would tell herself over and over that she didn't care, but when she lay awake at night listening to Santana breathe slowly and evenly beside her, the truth was harder to deny. Her father was gone and she was never going to be able to regain his acceptance - that was something she was just going to have to learn to live with. It was even harder to live with her indescretion the night before her father's funeral. Sometimes, Santana would smile at her or squeeze her hand and Quinn would be suddenly be overwhelmed with remorse. In those moments she was terrified that she would do or say something that would give away her guilt, and then she would lose Santana forever.

"It's okay, Santana," Quinn said hurriedly. "It doesn't have to change anything. We'll still be together."

"You'll be two hours away," Santana replied, and Quinn heard a slight tremor in her voice. "And you'll be busy with classes and extra-curriculars. I'll be starting at NYU part-time and I'll still have to work. Q, it's hard enough to find time to spend together now…" She broke off, her eyes shining with tears. Quinn was floored by the depth of Santana's emotion and all she wanted to do was take the brunette in her arms and tell her that her fears were groundless, but the truth of Santana's words was undeniable. Things were going to have to change, and Quinn didn't want that any more than Santana did.

"I'll visit every weekend," Quinn promised. "And every chance I get. And you can come to New Haven; I'm not going to have a roommate so you'll be able to stay over. We'll make it work."

"I have to work weekends," Santana said in a small voice. Quinn's frustration with the situation boiled over.

"Well then, we'll just have to think of something else!" she said hotly.

"What?" Santana was still pouting and Quinn was starting to get a headache.

"I don't know, San," she said, a little harsher than she'd intended. "I can't think of everything. But you don't have to make out like it's the end of the world. Lots of couples make long distance relationships work. You just have to want it enough!" Her voice was sharp with irritation, and she slammed her laptop shut in a fit of pique. It wasn't fair that just as she and Santana had finally reached a good place in their relationship, they were going to have to redefine it all over again.

"You think I don't want this?" Santana said quietly, her expression full of hurt.

"No!" cried Quinn angrily. "For heaven's sake, Santana, that's not what I meant. I…" She broke off and shook her head with a sigh.

"Because I do want this," Santana continued, as though Quinn hadn't spoken. "I want this more than I've ever wanted anything. I love you, Quinn."

A tidal wave of emotions washed over Quinn as Santana spoke. Santana loved her. Those were the three words Quinn had most wanted to hear uttered from Santana's wonderful mouth, but she'd hoped that the first time she heard them would be romantic and beautiful, not thrown out in the middle of a fight. She didn't know how to respond, but apparently Santana took her hesitation as an answer because without another word, she turned on her heels and stormed out of the apartment, the slam of the door mingling with a rumble of thunder that made Quinn jump. She felt a lump in her throat and she swallowed hard, fighting back tears as she wondered how the afternoon had gone down hill so quickly.

Santana didn't come home until late that night. Quinn had tried calling her and discovered that Santana had left her phone on the bedside table when she'd stormed out. She'd considered going to look for her but had no idea where to even start. The storm had continued to rage all evening, and whilst it matched Quinn's mood perfectly, she couldn't help but worry about Santana being out in such terrible weather.

When she finally heard the familiar sound of a key turning in the front door lock after all of her roommates had gone to bed, Quinn felt a flood of relief. Santana stepped through the door, dripping wet and bedraggled, but Quinn didn't care about that as she flung her arms around her girlfriend.

"Where have you been?" she chastized, brushing dripping tendrils of dark hair from Santana's forehead. "San, don't you ever do that to me again. You had me scared half to death." Her voice broke as she reprimanded Santana, who stood there looking dishevelled and sheepish.

"I'm sorry," she said simply. Quinn kissed her then, long and hard, as they stood intertwined in the open doorway, illuminated by the flickering hallway lighting.

Quinn busied herself fussing over Santana, wrapping her in towels to dry her off and making her cocoa to warm her up. Santana didn't talk much, just listened as Quinn continued to admonish her.

"Look at you, you're shaking! You're probably going to get sick now," Quinn said with a sigh, as she rubbed Santana's hands to warm them. "Santana, you can't do that to me whenever we have a fight. You need to be able to stay and talk it out like adults if we're going to stand any chance of making this work."

"I know that," Santana admitted ruefully. "I just can't stand the thought of losing you, Q. I mean, look at you – you're smart, you're beautiful. When you get back to Yale you're going to be surrounded by people just like you. You could have anyone you wanted. What if some hot guy asks you out, what will you say?"

"I'll tell him that I have an amazing, talented, wonderful girlfriend," Quinn promised, and Santana smiled slightly. "I'll tell him that I'm flattered but that I'm definitely not interested. I don't want any other guys, or girls. I'm with you because you're the one I want." As she spoke, she felt a pang of regret as her night with Puck came back to haunt her, but she quickly pushed the memory to one side to concentrate on the present. To emphasize her point, she kissed Santana again, tasting the sugary cocoa on her soft lips. Santana was still trembling slightly, and Quinn pulled away reluctantly.

"You need to get warmed up, Santana," she advised, adjusting the towels around Santana's shoulders. "Why don't you go take a shower and then come to bed?"

Santana smiled hopefully.

"Remember what you promised me the night of our first kiss?" she asked.

Quinn caught her lower lip between her teeth at the memory, as a slight shiver of anticipation ran through her.

"I do," she said with a low chuckle. She stood up and took Santana by the hand, and led her into the bathroom. She turned on the shower and let the hot water begin to flow, the small room steaming up quickly from the humid air.

Slowly, deliberately she began to peel the wet towels from her girlfriend's shoulders. She stripped off her own shorts and camisole, as Santana watched appreciatively, then undressed Santana - pausing to admire her body as desire surged through her.

She stepped into the shower, pulling Santana with her, and let the hot water cascade over both of them. Santana kissed her hungrily, and Quinn let her hormones take over as her hands roamed over the intimate parts of Santana's body…

Later that night, the girls lay in bed and Quinn idly ran her fingers up and down Santana's spine as she listened to the rain and the wind rattling the windows.

"Don't go back," Santana said suddenly. Quinn had thought she was asleep so it took a moment for her to respond to the unexpected request.

"San, we've been through this. I have to. I like studying, and I need to get an education."

"There are other schools," Santana said, propping herself up to look at Quinn. "You could get in to NYU, or even Columbia – you like working there, don't you?"

Quinn sighed.

"It's not the same thing. I love Yale. I love my classes and my professors, and I have a life there. You can't ask me to just give all that up, not yet." Santana was silent as she digested Quinn's words. "I promise you we'll find a way through this," Quinn said softly. "I'm not giving up on us, Santana… and I'm not saying never to transferring schools, but I'm not ready to take that step yet. Just give me a semester to see how things go, please?"

Now it was Santana's turn to sigh. "One semester," she agreed. "I'm not giving up on us either."

Their relationship was still new but it was already so intense that it frightened Quinn. She knew the odds on long distance relationships weren't in their favor. She longed to say out loud that she loved Santana, to reciprocate Santana's declaration from that afternoon, but something held her back. If she said the words then she would have to let herself believe it; and if she let herself believe it and then it didn't work out, if Santana ever realized the truth, that Quinn didn't deserve her… she didn't know if she could get through that.

She kissed Santana, long and deep, stroking her tongue rhythmically against Santana's before finally coming up for air, breathing hard. She gathered Santana in her arms and held her close, revelling in the feeling of their bodies pressing together.

"It's late," she murmured softly, her voice tinged with sadness. "I have to work in the morning. We should get some sleep."


	16. Chapter 16

_**Author's Note: Okay, so I promised to try to get out an extra chapter tonight so here it is. It's been 10 days since I posted the first chapter, and my story has had over 10,000 views so thank you so much to everyone who's been reading, following, or reviewing, it means a lot! I'm getting comments asking if Quinn is going to tell Santana about Puck, and I'm not going to answer that directly but I thought I would share with you all the next few chapter titles and leave you to figure it out for yourselves. I'm still working on them though, so the titles could change, but as it stands here goes: Chapter 17 - Make it Count; Chapter 18 - House of Cards; Chapter 19 - Broken; Chapter 20 - Going Back to the Start. I'll probably be posting one a day for the next few days, but here is today's second chapter - hope you like it! :)**_

**Chapter Sixteen: Give it Everything**

As Quinn had predicted, Santana's little sojourn in the rain resulted in a cold. For three days, Santana suffered with a fever, a streaming nose, and a very bad temperament. She coughed and tossed and turned all night to the point where Quinn once again considered sleeping on the couch.

She was demanding and petulant, sulking when Quinn left her side to go to work, and generally being so unpleasant that their roommates started finding excuses not to hang around the apartment. Indeed, Rachel was so paranoid about catching Santana's germs now that her Broadway debut was so close that she actually checked into a hotel for a few days.

On the third evening of Santana's illness, Quinn arrived home from work tired and grumpy herself, but she cheered up to see Santana out of bed and dressed for the first time in days. She placed the carton of chicken soup she'd picked up on her way home onto the kitchen counter and went to place her hand against Santana's forehead to check her temperature.

"Your fever's down," she said happily, leaning in to kiss Santana hello. "Are you feeling better?"

"Much better," Santana agreed, trying to encourage Quinn to sit down beside her and repeat the kiss. Unfortunately, the moment was interrupted by a coughing fit that left Santana gasping for air.

Quinn smiled sympathetically, but detached herself from Santana and headed back into the kitchen.

"I brought you some soup," she offered, putting the carton into the microwave to heat it up. "Maybe you should go back to bed and I'll bring it in to you. It'll make you feel better."

Santana sidled up behind her and wrapped her arms around Quinn's waist.

"I know something else that'll make me feel better," she murmured, her voice hoarse – whether from her cold or from desire, Quinn couldn't tell. She chuckled as she wriggled around to face Santana without breaking the embrace.

"Sweetie, we've been through this. As undeniably sexy as you are right now," she giggled as Santana snuffled and fought off another coughing fit, "I _really_ don't want to get sick. And what you have in mind… I really don't think you've got the stamina for it right now. Besides, I need you to be fully recovered by this weekend – I have big plans for us but it's not going to work if you're sick."

She'd been hinting to Santana about her surprise for the last few days, but she was determined not to break and spill the beans before Saturday night came around. She'd told Santana just enough to persuade her to find someone to cover her shift at work. She smiled expectantly as she thought about her plans.

Santana was somewhat mollified by Quinn's words and she obediently shuffled back off to their bedroom.

Quinn hummed happily to herself as she prepared the soup for Santana. Much as she wanted her girlfriend to get well quickly, she was enjoying playing nursemaid. She loved the feeling of being needed, and of taking care of someone else. Quinn knew that she had a propensity towards selfishness, but somehow, the more time she spent with Santana, the less time she spent thinking about putting herself first. Making Santana happy was more important to her than her own wants or needs.

By the end of the week, Santana was more or less recovered from her cold – to the relief of her roommates. Quinn, however, was becoming increasingly nervous about the surprise she had planned for Santana. Saturday night arrived, and Quinn, dressed in a pale blue and white dress and silver sandals that showed off her shapely legs, paced the floor anxiously while she waited for the others to get ready.

Santana was in a lousy mood because she couldn't understand why Quinn was bringing Rachel along with them on their date. It was all part of Quinn's plan, but Santana had been so obnoxious about it that Quinn had almost considered abandoning the idea altogether.

Santana continued to grumble on the train ride into Manhattan and lagged behind as Rachel led the way to their destination. Quinn kept a tight grip on Santana's hand and pulled her onwards, doing her best to ignore the butterflies in her stomach.

"We're here," Rachel announced suddenly, stopping in front of a small bar with a big sign out front, advertising that tonight was open mike night. Quinn watched with relief as realization dawned on Santana's face.

Rachel made herself scarce inside while Quinn stood hand in hand with Santana on the sidewalk and explained her plan.

"I wanted to show you how I feel about you," she admitted shyly. "I didn't know how to say what I wanted to say, so I thought about it a while, and then I thought 'what would Mr Schuester say?' So, I decided that I could sing it to you instead. I had to get Rachel involved because I had no idea how to go about it and I knew she'd be able to help… and here we are." She said all of this in a rush and then blushed and tried to bury her head against Santana's shoulder. "Is it okay?" she asked, her voice somewhat muffled by Santana's hair.

Santana took a step back to look into Quinn's eyes.

"It's more than okay," she said reassuringly before catching her lips in a long and intimate kiss that was only broken when Rachel stuck her head back through the door and demanded to know if they were ever coming inside.

For the next hour, Quinn sat in a booth with Santana and Rachel listening to a succession of singers showcasing their skills. She'd been right to trust Rachel's judgement regarding the venue, as most of the singers were fantastic. She cuddled up to Santana in a secluded booth with a great view of the stage, and tried to set aside her nerves as she thought about her impending performance. Rachel sat opposite them and kept up a steady critique of the performers. Santana too was not shy about expressing her opinions, but Quinn stayed quiet and enjoyed the music and the way Santana was gently stroking her knee.

She used her fake ID to buy a couple of drinks for dutch courage, and spent ten minutes listening to a lecture from Rachel about how alcohol affected the vocal chords.

Then it was Quinn's turn to take the stage and Santana gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. Quinn felt a flutter that had nothing to do with nerves as Santana gave her a kiss for luck.

"Um, hi," Quinn said into the microphone, trying not to look out into the crowded bar. Luckily, the lights made it hard to see more than a few feet from the stage, but she had a clear view of Santana who gave her a little wave and beamed at her. "I want to sing a song for my girlfriend, and hopefully this will express what I want her to know." She giggled slightly as the music started, and hoped she wasn't too out of practice for performing.

_I've been awake for a while now_  
_You've got me feelin' like a child now_  
_'Cause every time I see your bubbly face_  
_I get the tingles in a silly place_

_It starts in my toes_  
_And I crinkle my nose_  
_Wherever it goes_  
_I always know_  
_That you make me smile_  
_Please stay for a while now_  
_Just take your time_  
_Wherever you go_

_The rain is falling on my window pane_  
_But we are hiding in a safer place_  
_Under covers staying dry and warm_  
_You give me feelings that I adore_

_They start in my toes_  
_Make me crinkle my nose_  
_Wherever it goes_  
_I always know_  
_That you make me smile_  
_Please stay for a while_  
_now just take your time_  
_Wherever you go_

_But what am I gonna say_  
_When you make me feel this way?_  
_I just mmmm…_

_And it starts in my toes_  
_Makes me crinkle my nose_  
_Wherever it goes_  
_I always know_  
_That you make me smile_  
_Please stay for a while_  
_Now just take your time_  
_Wherever you go_

_I've been asleep for a while now_  
_You tuck me in just like a child now_  
_'Cause every time you hold me in your arms_  
_I'm comfortable enough to feel your warmth_

_And it starts in my soul_  
_And I lose all control_  
_When you kiss my nose_  
_The feeling shows_  
_'Cause you make me smile,_  
_Baby just take your time_  
_Now holdin' me tight_

_Wherever, wherever, wherever you go_  
_Wherever, wherever, wherever you go_

_Wherever you go_  
_I always know_  
_'Cause you make me smile_  
_Even just for a while_

When she finished, she blushed at the sound of applause and hurried back to her seat and her waiting girlfriend. Santana's eyes were bright and she kissed Quinn deeply until Rachel laughed at them and cleared her throat to get them to part.

"Did you like it?" Quinn asked shyly.

"You were amazing," Santana replied, taking her hand and intertwining their fingers.

"Well, there was another song I wanted to sing to you," Quinn admitted, "but I didn't think I could do it justice, so I asked Rachel if she could help me out."

"And Lord knows, Berry never passes up an opportunity to perform," Santana muttered but she was grinning and Rachel didn't take offence as she slipped out of the booth to take her position on the stage. Unlike Quinn, Rachel gave no introductions; she simply started to sing as Quinn curled into the familiar curves of Santana's body and rested her head against her girlfriend's shoulder. She'd chosen a song for Rachel to sing that truly conveyed all she wanted to say to Santana but never could. Santana would not recognize the true meaning behind some of the lines, but that didn't make them any less poignant for Quinn. She couldn't apologize to Santana for what she'd done with Puck, but she could give her the song, and mean every word.

_There's nothing I could say to you_  
_Nothing I could ever do to make you see_  
_What you mean to me_  
_All the pain, the tears I cried_  
_Still you never said goodbye and now I know_  
_How far you'd go_

_I know I let you down_  
_But it's not like that now_  
_This time I'll never let you go_

_I will be, all that you want_  
_And gather myself together_  
_'Cause you keep me from falling apart_  
_All my life, I'll be with you forever_  
_To get you through the day_  
_And make everything okay_

_I thought that I had everything_  
_I didn't know what life could bring_  
_But now I see, honestly_  
_You're the one thing I got right_  
_The only one I let inside_  
_Now I can breathe, cause you're here with me_

_And if I let you down_  
_I'll turn it all around_  
_'Cause I would never let you go_

_I will be, all that you want_  
_And gather myself together_  
_'Cause you keep me from falling apart_  
_All my life, I'll be with you forever_  
_To get you through the day_  
_And make everything okay_

_'Cause without you I cant breathe_  
_I'm not gonna ever, ever let you leave_  
_You're all I've got, you're all I want_  
_Yeah_

_And without you I don't know what I'd do_  
_I can never, ever live a day without you_  
_Here with me, do you see,_  
_You're all I need_

_I will be, all that you want_  
_And gather myself together_  
_'Cause you keep me from falling apart_  
_All my life, I'll be with you forever_  
_To get you through the day_  
_And make everything okay_

As Rachel lost herself in the song, Quinn and Santana lost themselves in each other's eyes. Quinn couldn't remember anyone ever looking at her with such reverence.

"I like Rachel's song," Santana whispered, bringing her lips close to Quinn's ear and planting a tender kiss on the spot just behind her ear which she knew from experience would make Quinn shiver. "And I'm glad you asked her to sing it to me. But I loved your song. Do I really make you tingle?"

Quinn giggled as Santana slipped her hand up the inside of her thigh beneath her dress.

"What do you think?" she said, thankful that the bar was so dark, because she was blushing furiously. "You're the best thing in my life, San. I'd have to be crazy to screw that up. I know it's going to be tough being separated from you but we can Skype and talk on the phone every night…"

"Will you talk dirty to me on the phone?" Santana teased, and Quinn knew that she expected her to be embarrassed, but Quinn leant forward and brushed Santana's hair aside to whisper seductively in her ear a few choice phrases about what she wanted Santana to do to her when they got home. Santana's eyes widened at Quinn's words, and when Quinn sat back feeling pleased with herself and more than a little turned on, it was Santana's turn to blush.

"Quinn Fabray!" Santana exclaimed, pretending to be scandalized. "Where on earth did you learn words like that?"

Quinn just chuckled and tried to look demure as Rachel skipped back into her seat with her usual post-performance buzz face.

Rachel glanced from Quinn's diffident expression to Santana's red face with a slight look of confusion.

"I'm guessing I probably don't want to know what's going on with you two, right?" she asked tentatively, and Quinn couldn't help but burst into a fit of giggles.

**_Songs:_ '_Bubbly' by Colbie Callait, and 'I Will Be' by Leona Lewis_**


	17. Chapter 17

_**Author's Note: Here's chapter 17 for you all. I might possibly get another chapter up later tonight as well. Enjoy :)**_

**Chapter Seventeen: Make it Count**

Rachel had arranged for some friends to join her for the latter part of the open mike night so Quinn was able to whisk Santana away for a late dinner. As grateful as she was to Rachel for helping her to serenade Santana, the two of them had planned the evening so that Rachel wouldn't end up as a third wheel all night.

As they finished up at the restaurant, Quinn divulged the second part of her surprise to Santana.

"We've got the loft to ourselves tonight," she said casually, watching Santana carefully to gauge her reaction. She wasn't disappointed. Santana's face split into a slow grin.

"All night?" she asked in disbelief. Quinn nodded. "How did you manage that?" Santana wanted to know. Quinn giggled.

"I can be very persuasive when I want to be," she said, lacing her fingers through Santana's across the table. "I have ways of getting what I want."

Now it was Santana's turn to chuckle.

"So, what do you want now?" she asked hopefully. Quinn caught her lower lip between her teeth, and shivered in anticipation.

"I want you to take me home and make love to me," she whispered.

The taxi ride home was excruciating as the girls tried and failed to keep their hands off each other. They were thankfully able to restrain themselves enough to keep all of their clothes on until they stumbled through the door to the apartment, although there was a brief moment in the elevator where Quinn seriously did not think she was going to manage it, as Santana's hand slid up her inner thigh to press against her intimately through the barrier of her underwear.

Once inside, the hormones took over completely and Quinn allowed Santana to peel off her dress even before they'd managed to get the door fully closed. Santana sandwiched Quinn between her body and the now thankfully closed door and devoured her with hungry, wet kisses that left them both panting and trembling. She raised Quinn's right leg to wrap around her waist as her strong fingers pushed Quinn's underwear aside. As she stroked and fondled the sensitive bundle of nerves at her center, Quinn whimpered and gasped.

Quinn felt wetness pooling between her thighs as Santana continued her ministrations. All Quinn could do was cling on to Santana's shoulders and bite down on her lip as the pressure coiled, low and hot in her belly, taking her closer and closer to the crescendo. She cried out Santana's name over and over as her inner walls began to clench rhythmically and her orgasm washed over her.

"That wasn't… how that… was supposed to go," Quinn panted, as she clung to Santana, her legs suddenly turned to jello. "Tonight was supposed to be about you."

Santana smiled and brushed Quinn's damp, sweaty bangs out of her eyes.

"Oh, it was," she said softly. "You still don't get it, do you? I love you so much, Q. All I want is to make you happy."

"You do make me happy," Quinn whispered, her eyes filling with tears. "And I… I love you too." She hadn't meant to say those words, she didn't want to accept the truth, but in that moment it all came tumbling out. Now it was going to be a thousand times harder when the inevitable parting day arrived. Feeling overwhelmed and emotional, Quinn began to cry against Santana's shoulder. Santana understood and held her tightly, murmuring and whispering in her ear until the passion flared in both of them again, and they spent the night getting lost in each other.

With Quinn's imminent departure date looming over them, the girls tried to spend as much quality time together as they could over the next two weeks. They went to movies and took long walks together through the city. Quinn dragged Santana to museums and galleries, and Santana took Quinn dancing.

Though they tried to focus on the time they had left together, Santana's mood took a definite nosedive as the days went on. She was snappy and irritable with everyone except Quinn, and Quinn couldn't help but feel sorry for their roommates who would have to deal with the aftermath when she finally did have to leave.

Then it was Tuesday, the night before Quinn had to leave and her roommates planned a farewell dinner. Santana was not happy about it and she made her feelings known as Quinn folded the last of her clothes to lay them into the open suitcase on her bed.

"I don't see why they have to monopolize you all the time," she grumbled loudly, and Quinn was afraid their roommates would hear. "Why can't our last night be just about us? Why do I have to share you?"

"San, I've barely seen them these last couple of weeks," Quinn attempted to reason, "and they're our friends. And if it hadn't been for Rachel suggesting I stay for the summer, there wouldn't even be an 'us'."

Santana muttered derisively under her breath and Quinn sighed. She threw the shirt she had been folding onto the bed and crossed the room to take Santana into her arms.

"Please don't fight with me," she whispered into the sweet-smelling curtain of Santana's hair. "Not tonight." She felt Santana squeeze her tightly, and she took a shaky breath. "Tell me it'll be okay, Santana," she pleaded.

Santana pulled back from their embrace slightly to look Quinn in the eye.

"Of course we will," she said reassuringly. "I can't help being a bitch, Q, you know that. I just hate the thought of being away from you."

Not for the first time, Quinn was tempted to call the university and tell them that she wouldn't be returning for the fall semester after all. When she'd logged on to register for classes the previous Friday, her heart hadn't been in it and she barely even cared whether she was successful in all of her choices. She'd deliberately avoided classes on Monday mornings and Friday afternoons so that she'd be able to prolong her weekends in New York. But even the thought of being away from Santana for four nights a week gave her a physical pain in her stomach that took her breath away. Quinn was scared of the intensity of her feelings for Santana and she didn't know how she was going to be able to concentrate on her matriculation at Yale, when her heart was eighty miles away in New York.

As her roommates chattered excitedly about the start of the new academic year, Quinn forced herself to smile and look like she was enjoying the meal Rachel had carefully prepared, but in truth she had to force down every mouthful. There was a lump in her throat that she just couldn't get rid of.

Santana was doing an even poorer job of hiding her feelings. She'd managed maybe three mouthfuls before she threw down her fork and glowered silently at her friends.

Luckily, Rachel kept up a steady stream of chatter so Quinn and Santana's quietness was barely noticeable. Rachel's Broadway debut was almost upon them and she was vibrant and enthusiastic as she talked about how well rehearsals were progressing.

"You will be here, won't you?" she asked Quinn suddenly, and Quinn had to admit that she hadn't been paying attention.

"For my opening night," Rachel explained, rolling her eyes. "My dads are coming and I want all my friends there – no exceptions!"

Quinn smiled warmly and squeezed Rachel's hand.

"Of course I will," she promised. "I wouldn't miss it for the world." Rachel clapped her hands excitedly. Quinn looked around at the four people seated around the table. Over the past couple of months, she'd really begun to think of them as her family. It felt good to know that she had a place where she was accepted and loved unconditionally. She forced herself to stop dwelling on leaving and concentrate on the here and now, and as she relaxed into the conversation, she noticed Santana get drawn in as well. For the first time in a while, Quinn actually began to believe that everything would be okay.

After dinner, Rachel begged and pleaded with them all to play the singing game she'd first mentioned on Quinn's second night in New York. This time they agreed, but the game lasted for precisely two minutes before Santana had enough and threw a pillow at Rachel good naturedly. Once the game had ended Rachel drifted of to bed, and Kurt and Blaine followed shortly thereafter. Quinn set about tidying the kitchen whilst Santana sat on the couch with a glass of wine and watched her.

"You know you don't have to do that," she told her, indicating the dirty dishes.

"I want to," Quinn replied, shaking soap bubbles off her hands before plunging the next dish into the sink. "Rachel and Kurt spent all afternoon cooking, it's the least I can do."

"Come sit with me," Santana commanded, obviously deciding that the subtle approach wasn't working. Quinn wiped her hands and did as requested, curling up against Santana and resting her head on her shoulder. It was only two nights, she told herself as she tried not to cry. Two nights this week, and four the next… no, she didn't want to think about next week.

Instead, Quinn focussed all of her attention on Santana, kissing her slowly and deeply, tangling her fingers into the brunette's hair to pull her closer and press their bodies together with delicious friction. Without breaking contact, the girls managed to get up from the couch and into their sleeping area. They stumbled over half packed boxes and fell onto the bed which was still covered in Quinn's neatly folded clothes. Neither of them cared, or even noticed, in their eagerness to get close to each other. Gently, they undressed each other, taking time to kiss or caress each bit of newly exposed skin.

Quinn felt as though she were on fire every time Santana's fingertips or tongue made contact with her body. She couldn't get enough of Santana either; she wanted to touch and taste every inch of her girlfriend. She kissed her way down Santana's body and ran her tongue lightly over the sensitive flesh of her inner thigh. Hearing Santana gasp appreciatively only heightened Quinn's desire; and she let herself get lost in the sensations as Santana writhed beneath her, until she lost control and Quinn heard her mumbling her name repeatedly.

When Quinn raised her head to look at Santana, she was surprised to see tears running down her flushed cheeks. Gently, she kissed them away, and was relieved when Santana gave her a watery smile. Santana laid her head against Quinn's shoulder and looked around at the mess they had made. Half of Quinn's clothes were on the floor, and the rest were crumpled beneath them on the bed.

"I guess we'll need to start the packing over again," she said ruefully. Quinn had other ideas.

"We'll do it in the morning," she said, as her lips captured Santana's.

The dawn came far quicker than Quinn would've liked, her alarm trilling shrilly at five a.m. Santana, who was not a morning person, rolled over and went back to sleep while Quinn tried to finish packing quietly around her.

By seven, Quinn's belongings were stacked neatly in the backseat and trunk of her car and she'd exchanged hugs with Rachel, Kurt, and Blaine; feeling silly for her tears when she'd be seeing them again in just a few days.

She stood on the sidewalk, hand in hand with Santana and looked up at the old building fondly. She couldn't believe how much had changed in the last few months. Remembering how anxious she'd been about seeing Santana when she'd first arrived in New York, Quinn marvelled at how far they'd come. She was in a committed and fulfilling relationship with the girl she loved, and she felt confident in Santana's love for her in return.

"I'll see you Friday," she said, trying to smile but verging on tears instead.

"Hey, none of that," Santana admonished gently, as she stroked away the stray tear that spilled over and down Quinn's cheek. "You need to be able to focus on driving safely. How are you going to do that if you're crying?"

"You're crying," Quinn pointed out, through her tears.

Santana laughed and kissed her softly.

"That's different; I'm not driving anywhere, dummy. Sometimes I wonder how you got into Yale."

"Hey!" Quinn said indignantly, but she was laughing too.

Santana kissed her again.

"Go be smart, baby," she murmured against Quinn's lips. "I'll see you Friday."

Quinn clung on to Santana for several seconds longer before reluctantly letting go and climbing into her car. As she pulled away and drove down the street, with Santana waving to her, she prayed that the next few days would go quickly, until she could come back home again.


	18. Chapter 18

_**Author's Note: Please be warned, this chapter and the next are not happy chapters. I said that there would be consequences for Quinn's actions, and unfortunately we've reached that point in the story. I was going to wait and post the following chapter tomorrow, but I think I'll post them both tonight. Please remember also that this story is 100% Quinntana end-game. I'm anticipating winding up the story somewhere around chapter 24 at present... but that's a little way down the road. For now, here is chapter 18...**_

**Chapter Eighteen: House of Cards**

Quinn's first three days back at Yale were some of the longest of her life. She couldn't concentrate on her new classes, and she spent most of her time wondering what Santana was doing.

As soon as her last class finished on Friday, Quinn ran to her car, eager to get the journey back to New York underway. Santana had somehow arranged for another girl to cover her shifts at work so they had the whole weekend to themselves. Then, all too soon it was Monday again, and Quinn made the two hour drive north to Connecticut.

By the second weekend, things were even harder. She had settled into her classes, and was loving her new acting class in particular, but she was behind on homework, spending hours Skyping Santana each night. She rationalized that she could work through lunch breaks to catch up and stop her mind from drifting.

Still, by the time Friday rolled around, Quinn physically ached for Santana, and she skipped out on her last class so that she could be in New York by the time Santana got home from her orientation week at NYU. As expected, Santana was thrilled to walk into her bedroom and find Quinn naked and waiting for her in her bed. They shared an enjoyable couple of hours to themselves before Santana reluctantly had to get up and go to work.

Quinn was determined to make the most of this weekend, as the following weekend was going to be Rachel's opening night, and Quinn knew that she and Santana would not get a lot of time alone. With that in mind, she woke Santana up early on Saturday morning and insisted that Santana came with her for a run.

"For a dancer and an ex-cheerleader, you are seriously out of shape," Quinn teased as she waited for a panting and groaning Santana to catch up with her, stretching her hamstrings to keep from seizing up. It was early and the only people out in the park at this hour were dog-walkers and other runners.

Santana stumbled wearily into her, grabbed her around the waist, and sent them both tumbling onto the grass, laughing.

"You, Quinn Fabray, are a masochist," grumbled Santana, as she tried to catch her breath. Quinn rolled onto her back and looked up at the pale blue sky.

"And you, Santana Lopez, seriously need to build up your stamina," she responded, mockingly.

"I have plenty of stamina!" Santana retorted, and to prove her point, she launched herself onto Quinn so that she was straddling her waist and pinning her to the ground. They kissed for several blissful minutes until a low wolf-whistle from a passing dog-walker made them remember where they were.

Returning to the loft, Santana tried to persuade Quinn to shower with her but their friends were awake and making breakfast by this time, and Quinn wasn't able to put aside the embarrassment that they would know what was going on, so she chickened out and made Santana shower alone, before grabbing a quick shower herself.

Later in the day, the girls headed out for a late lunch and compared stories about their first full weeks back at school. Santana was happy with her classes, but not so happy with some of the teachers. That didn't surprise Quinn, who was well aware of her girlfriend's issues with authority. They discussed Rachel and her upcoming Broadway debut, and Santana grumbled about how impossible Rachel was to live with right now.

"Give it time," was the only advice Quinn could offer. "I'm sure she'll calm down after opening night."

The 'opening night' in question was the following Friday. Quinn had told her friends that she would meet them at the theatre as they would all be in the city for school and there was no point in them travelling back out to meet her. This wasn't entirely true. In the past three weeks, Quinn had figured out that she couldn't stand being away from Santana, even for four nights a week. She'd skipped her last class that day and driven to New York to meet with an admissions officer at Columbia. She loved Yale, it was true, but she loved Santana more. She didn't want to tell Santana until she knew for sure whether or not she'd been accepted, and as she'd left his office the admissions officer had promised to let her know as soon as possible. Quinn was pretty good at reading people and she had a good feeling about her chances, but she didn't want to get Santana's hopes up until she found out for sure.

She arrived at the theater about fifteen minutes later than planned, and she only had eyes for Santana, standing out in the huge, milling crowd - dressed in a figure hugging, black, sequined dress - as she flung her arms around her girlfriend and kissed her passionately.

Santana responded to the kiss, but something was slightly off, and Quinn gave her a puzzled frown when they parted. Santana tried to suppress a grin as she took Quinn by the shoulders and turned her around. Standing behind her, wearing matching shocked expressions were Finn, Tina, Mike… and Puck. Instantly, Quinn regretted not paying more attention to Rachel when she had talked endlessly about opening night. She racked her brains to remember if Rachel had mentioned their old friends coming along, but she drew a blank. Her cheeks colored and she swallowed hard.

"Um, hi guys," she said sheepishly. Tina and Mike recovered quickly from their shock and both gave her a quick hug, whilst Finn tried to look like he hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary, but Puck continued to stare at Quinn until she shifted uncomfortably and broke his gaze.

"How long have you guys been together?" Tina asked politely, avoiding the obvious 'how long have you been into girls?' question.

"Not long," Santana admitted, smoothing Quinn's mussed hair. "Did you get chance to eat on the way here?" she asked her girlfriend. Quinn shook her head.

"No, but don't worry, I'll grab something later," she said dismissively.

Puck laughed, but it sounded forced to Quinn's ears.

"We don't want you passing out and getting another knock on the head," he said, and Quinn froze. She hadn't told Santana about Puck's involvement in her accident, in fact, she'd made out like she'd only seen him for the short ride from the train station to the hospital. From the curious look on Santana's face, she'd picked up on his words, and Quinn prayed that Santana's boasting about having a Mexican-third-eye was just a joke. Santana opened her mouth to respond, but right on cue, Kurt bounded up to them and handed out tickets, telling them it was time to go in.

Rachel, as was to be expected, was perfect in the role of Fanny Brice. Quinn tried to lose herself in the show, but she couldn't help but be aware of Puck shooting glances in her direction throughout the show. From the way Santana bristled beside her, Quinn knew that Santana had noticed it too. Quinn spent intermission in the line for the bathroom to avoid having to talk to anyone, whilst she tried to control her panic.

When the show was over, Quinn cheered and applauded with the rest of the audience when Rachel took her bow but inside, her stomach was churning unpleasantly.

Rachel was going out with the rest of the cast immediately after the show, but apparently it had all been arranged that they would meet up at a bar later that night. Quinn wasn't sure exactly how late that would be – it was almost eleven when they left the theater – and she wanted nothing more than to get Santana away from Puck, but she couldn't think of a way to do it without further arousing Santana's suspicion.

When they arrived at the bar, Santana went to order them both drinks and Quinn seized the opportunity to pull Puck aside.

"You can't say anything about us to Santana!" she hissed, glancing around to make sure they weren't overheard. "Promise me, Puck. She can't know what we did."

"Okay, okay, I promise," Puck agreed, and then a thought seemed to cross his mind. "Wait, were you two together when we…"

"Ssh!" Quinn was incensed. "I'm not going to have this conversation with you here. I'm with Santana. I love Santana, and that's all you need to know. What we did was a mistake. I was stupid and weak, but if Santana finds out about it, I'll lose her." She was struggling to keep a check on her emotions, and Puck took her trembling hand.

"No one needs to know," he reassured her. "Just chill out, okay. We're all good."

Quinn didn't know whether to be incensed at his casual attitude or relieved that he wasn't going to spill their secret to Santana, but before she had time to decide, Santana was back with her drink. She still had a strange look clouding her features and Quinn nervously dragged her off to dance without a backwards glance at Puck.

"What were you and Puck talking about?" Santana asked as they slow-danced. Quinn could tell she was trying to sound nonchalant but she'd definitely noticed something was not right. "Was he giving you a hard time about us?"

"He was my first," Quinn said and then instantly regretted it. Why was she putting the image of her and Puck sleeping together in Santana's mind? Was she crazy? "He… um… well, I guess, it's always strange to see your ex moving on with someone else, especially when it's with another of your ex-girlfriends."

Santana chuckled and Quinn breathed a momentary sigh of relief. Then Santana thought of another question.

"How did he know about you bumping your head?" she wanted to know. Quinn tensed up in Santana's arms and her girlfriend must have felt it because she let go of Quinn and looked at her with a curious expression.

"I… um, he was there," Quinn admitted in a low voice.

"Why was he there?" Santana's voice had a dangerous edge.

"Can we talk about this outside?" Quinn asked nervously. The slow song had finished and a frenetic dance beat was now playing, making it hard for Quinn to focus.

"No, I want to talk about this now," Santana insisted. "Unless you want me to go ask Puck?"

"Santana, please!" Quinn wanted the ground to open up and swallow her whole. She couldn't breathe, there were too many people crowded around them, jostling her as they danced enthusiastically.

"What's going on, Quinn?" Santana yelled over the music. Quinn didn't know what to say. She felt like she was going to throw up. So, she did the worse thing she could possibly do. She turned and ran.

She pushed through the crowd, up the steps and out of the double doors leading to the street. Once outside, she clung to the railings and took a deep lungful of cool night air. She was shaking violently and she still felt like she was going to throw up, when she heard the sound of high-heeled shoes clicking on the concrete behind her.

"Tell me what's going on, Quinn," Santana said, quietly this time. "Tell me it's not what I'm thinking. Tell me there's nothing going on between you and Puck."

Quinn couldn't speak. She shook her head as the tears started to fall.

"At least tell me you didn't sleep with him." Santana was crying too now.

"Santana, I…" Quinn began but then stopped, not knowing what to say. "I'm sorry… it didn't mean anything, I promise."

Santana's beautiful face crumpled bitterly.

"I guess I should have expected something like this with your track record," she spat viciously. "I hope at least he managed not to knock you up this time. God knows, it sure screwed you up the last time."

Quinn felt as though Santana had punched her in the stomach, but there was nothing she could say to defend herself.

"I'm done with you," Santana said harshly. "I never want to see you again." And that said, she turned and stormed off into the night.

Quinn dropped to her knees on the sidewalk and wept.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter Nineteen: Broken**

**Six days later…**

"Quinnie, sweetheart, you need to eat something." Quinn looked at the tray of food her mom had prepared for her and felt like throwing up. She rolled over on her bed, a stray tear trickling down her cheek. "Baby, please?" her mom tried again but Quinn lay motionless and stared at the wall. She didn't want to eat anything, she just wanted to be left alone. Her mom set they tray of food down on her nightstand and moments later Quinn heard the soft click as her mother closed the door behind her.

She knew her mom was worried about her. The last time she'd been like this was summer vacation after junior year in high school. That time she hadn't gotten out of bed in almost two weeks. None of her friends, not even Santana knew the true extent of the breakdown Quinn went through that summer. By the time fall rolled around, Quinn had made it through the apathy phase and into an 'angry at the world' phase. Quinn kept waiting for the anger to arrive this time, but so far she just felt numb.

_She'd felt anger that night, of course, but since then nothing. She'd wanted to kill Puck that night. She'd screamed and yelled and hit out at him until her friends dragged her off him, their eyes wide with shock and fear. They'd never seen her so out of control. _

_She'd been desperate to find Santana, to explain, to apologize, to beg for forgiveness; but she had no idea where to start looking. She'd gone back to the apartment but Santana wasn't there. Her friends all knew that there was something desperately wrong, but despite their pleas, Quinn wouldn't tell them what had happened. She couldn't bear the look on all of their faces when they found out the truth. She'd simply sobbed until she had no more tears. One of them had called her mother, she wasn't sure who. She knew she was scaring them, but she'd felt like something inside her had broken, and there was no going back._

Quinn had been at home ever since. Her mom hadn't come to get her, Tina and Mike had driven her back to Ohio in her own car. She hadn't seen any of her friends since they'd dropped her off at dawn on Saturday morning. She hadn't said a word to anyone since then, her mother included.

Her mom had called Yale and explained that Quinn was having a hard time dealing with her dad's death, and they'd told her to take as much time off as she needed. Quinn wondered absently if her mom knew that her dad was only a small part of the problem, but asking would have involved talking, and there was only one person in the whole world she wanted to talk to.

Quinn was still laying on her side, staring at the untouched food tray an indeterminate amount of time later when there was a quiet knock on her bedroom door.

"Quinnie?" Quinn groaned inwardly at the sound of her mother's voice. "Quinnie, one of your friends is here to see you," her mom said tentatively.

Quinn sat up with a jolt.

"Santana?" she asked hopefully, her voice hoarse from several days without use.

"It's me," Kurt said softly, stepping into the room, his blue eyes full of concern. "Can I talk to you?"

Quinn nodded slowly, the ever-present tears filling her eyes again.

Her mom left them alone as Kurt came to sit on the side of her bed and take her hand. Quinn idly thought that her mom must really think she'd lost it if she'd resorted to allowing Kurt into the house, especially since her mom seemed to blame her friends for the state she was in.

_"I told you they were no good for you, what kind of friends let you get into this kind of state?" she'd said tearfully after Mike and Tina had dropped her off but were unable to shed any light on the reason for Quinn's distress. Quinn knew that they were trying to protect her - her mother would never have understood that she was distraught because her girlfriend had dumped her for cheating on her with the boy who'd gotten her pregnant at sixteen._

"You've looked better, sweetie," Kurt said sadly, reaching out to smooth her lank, unwashed hair tenderly.

"Have you talked to Santana?" Quinn asked brokenly.

Kurt nodded.

"She's doing a little better than you, from the looks of things," he admitted. "She's hurting, I won't lie to you. She's not ready to talk to you, but she is worried about you. We all are."

"I'm okay," Quinn said automatically, but she couldn't meet Kurt's eye. "Will you tell her that I'm sorry?" she asked in a small voice.

"I think she knows that," Kurt explained. "Puck told her what happened between you." He took in Quinn's horrified expression and hurried to explain. "After you left the bar, he went looking for Santana and I guess he found her. He told Santana that he took advantage of you, that it didn't mean anything to you, and that it was all his fault."

Quinn sniffed and took a shaky breath.

"It wasn't all his fault," she confessed. "I wasn't thinking straight, but it was still my decision. It's my fault." She'd been thinking about her actions a lot over the last few days, and she'd finally come to terms with her part in it all. She couldn't blame anyone else for her losing Santana. She'd managed that all on her own.

"Your dad had just died," Kurt said, but Quinn shook her head. She didn't want anyone making excuses for her. Kurt sighed. "Quinn, when I found out Blaine had cheated on me, I felt like it was the end of the world… but it wasn't. We got through it, and you and Santana can get through it. She loves you."

"I miss her so much," Quinn said, tears spilling down her cheeks. "But I don't deserve her, Kurt. I don't deserve to be happy."

"Because you made one dumb mistake when you were grieving?" Kurt shook his head. "We all make mistakes, Quinn, but somewhere along the line you seem to have gotten it into your head that you need to be perfect. Why can't you see that we love you, flaws and all?" He gathered her into his arms and held her while she sobbed.

After Kurt's visit, Quinn started to feel a little better. She managed to eat some soup her mother made for her, and she took a shower and washed her hair.

Over the next week, Kurt and Blaine called her every day to check in with her. She was grateful for their support, although she worried a lot that Santana would be upset that they were talking to her. The guys assured her that Santana knew and was okay with it, but Quinn needed constant reassurance of the fact, and even then, she couldn't quite believe them.

On Thursday night, almost two weeks after Quinn's world had come crashing down around her, the telephone on her nightstand rang. Quinn was so sure that it would be Kurt and Blaine calling that she answered without checking the caller ID.

"Hello?"

"It's me."

Quinn felt her heart skip a beat at the sound of Santana's voice. Her throat went dry and her palms were instantly clammy. She froze, unable to think of the right words to say.

"Q?" Santana asked quietly.

"I'm here," Quinn croaked out, silent tears running down her cheeks.

"How are you?" Santana asked her.

"It doesn't matter," Quinn replied. "How are _you_?" She heard snuffling on the other end of the phone.

"I miss you," said Santana simply.

"I'm so sorry," Quinn sobbed. "Santana, if I could take it back, I would. I never meant to hurt you. Please believe me."

"I do believe you," Santana told her sadly. "I'm not ready to forgive you yet, but I believe you. And I'm sorry for what I said to you that night, you know, about Beth."

"I deserved it," Quinn said immediately.

"No you didn't," Santana countered. "I was hurting and I wanted to hurt you back. It was a low blow." There was a long pause and then Santana spoke again, hesitantly this time. "I… I mean, do you… can we…? Do you think we can get past this one day?"

Quinn felt a flood of emotions at Santana's question. For a long moment she couldn't speak. When she was finally able to answer, her voice was croaky.

"I'd like that," she admitted, "more than anything."

Santana called Quinn several times over the next few days. They talked about anything and everything – how they were feeling, incidents from their childhoods, their friends, the weather – and slowly they began to relax around one another again.

Then, on the fourth day, Santana was in the middle of telling Quinn about one of her professors at school who was threatening to give her an incomplete for missing his class too many times over the last couple of weeks, when she suddenly stopped and changed the subject.

"Why don't you call me?" she demanded. Quinn was stunned by the sudden change of conversation, and confused.

"What do you mean?" she asked with a frown.

"I've called you nine times over the last few days," Santana explained, sounding inexplicably nervous. "You haven't called me once. Why?"

"I wanted to," Quinn admitted. "I _really_ wanted to. But I was afraid you wouldn't want to talk to me."

"Oh," Santana said, sounding relieved. "I thought maybe you didn't want to talk to me."

Quinn bit her lip and fought to keep control of her emotions.

"Santana, the only thing I want to do is talk to you," she confessed. "I love talking to you. When you hang up, I'm waiting by the phone until you call me again."

"Then come home," Santana said anxiously. "I mean, I know you'll have to go back to college soon, but come to New York first. We should talk face to face."

"Okay," Quinn agreed, smiling as she allowed herself to feel hopeful for the first time in weeks. "I'll come home."


	20. Chapter 20

_**Author's Note: I'm posting this early as I won't be home until late tonight, so may not get a chance to post later. There is a chance I may post chapter 21 when I get home, we'll see. Hopefully, this chapter will provide an answer to the review about whether it's too soon for Santana to forgive Quinn, and an insight in to what she's thinking :)**_

**Chapter Twenty: Going Back to the Start**

Pulling up her car outside the rundown apartment building she'd come to call home, and shutting off the ignition with shaking fingers, Quinn was forcibly reminded of the start of the summer. She'd been so apprehensive about seeing Santana back then, but that was nothing compared with the way she felt right now.

Back then, she'd thought she had a lot to lose, but now she really knew just how much was at stake. On the journey from Lima, Quinn had fretted about seeing Santana, playing out scenarios over and over in her mind, but she still had no idea how to act or what to say.

She rode up in the elevator, compulsively smoothing out non-existent creases in her pale yellow sundress, and walked with trembling legs to the apartment door. She still had her key, but it didn't feel right to use it so she knocked softly.

When Santana answered the door, Quinn felt a flood of emotion, and she had to stop herself from flinging her arms around the brunette. Santana had dark circles underneath her eyes and wore no make up, but she still looked beautiful to Quinn. She wore jeans and a black, wide-necked sweater, and her long hair was tied back loosely at the nape of her slender neck. She smiled tentatively at Quinn and stood back to let her through the door.

"Did you have a good journey?" she asked, sounding unnaturally formal, but with a slight tremor that betrayed her anxiety.

"Yes, thank you," Quinn replied. "It's nice to see you." Oh God, now she was being super-polite as well. She grimaced at herself and Santana smiled slightly. "I'm sorry," Quinn said. "I don't know why I'm so nervous."

"Tell me about it. I've been pacing the floor for the last three hours," Santana confessed. "And I cleaned the kitchen twice."

"You cleaned?" Quinn couldn't help the note of incredulity in her voice and Santana smiled again, more relaxed this time.

"I do have some domestic skills, you know," she said with a smirk. "For example, I could make us some tea?"

"I'd like that," Quinn agreed. She sat down at the kitchen table while Santana busied herself in the kitchen. "Where is everyone else?" she asked, looking around at the empty loft.

"They're all in class," Santana explained. Quinn had lost track of the days of the week, over the last few weeks. "And I think they wanted to give us some space to talk."

She handed Quinn her tea and sat down opposite her.

"I don't know how to start," Quinn admitted ruefully. "I've been going over and over it in my head, and I don't know what to say."

Santana sighed as she sipped her tea.

"You could tell me why," she said sadly. In all of their telephone conversations over the last few days, this was the one subject they'd avoided in detail, skirting around the peripheries but not going into detail.

"I wish I knew," Quinn said honestly. "I've thought about it so many times since and I don't know why I did it. I didn't plan it, and I hated myself for it, but I don't know why I couldn't stop it."

"Do you want to know what I think?" Santana asked her, reaching out as though to take her hand, but then stopping herself. Quinn nodded. "I think you sabotage the good things in your life because you don't think you deserve them," said Santana bluntly. "Remember just before nationals junior year? You told me and Brittany that you just wanted somebody to love you… but it's like you're so terrified that sooner or later people are going to let you down, so you do something to keep them from getting too close. You had a fucked up childhood, Quinn, a lot of people do, but sooner or later you're going to have to let that go. If you could see yourself the way I see you…" Santana broke off and took a deep breath to compose herself. "Quinn, you are a beautiful, smart, talented woman, and I love you so much, but you need to start loving yourself or I'll never be enough for you."

Quinn listened to Santana's words with tears streaming down her cheeks silently. It was terrifying and liberating at the same time hearing Santana voice all of Quinn's most private thoughts and fears as though she could read her mind.

"Kurt said something similar to me," Quinn confessed shakily. Santana smiled softly.

"Yeah, well don't tell Lady Hummel this, but sometimes he can be pretty smart," she said with a low chuckle. Then she grew serious again. "Q, I want us to get past this, I really do, but I don't know how. I understand how much you were hurting but I'm still so angry with you…"

"It's okay," Quinn said softly. "I'm not expecting you to take me back." She tried to keep control of her emotions, but inside she felt like her heart was breaking all over again.

"You didn't let me finish," Santana admonished gently. "I was going to say I want to forgive you, but it's going to take some time. Will you wait for me?" Her voice broke on the last sentence, but her dark eyes were hopeful as she met and held Quinn's gaze.

Quinn nodded through her tears.

"Of course I will," she agreed. "As long as it takes, I promise. I love you, Santana."

After that, the girls talked for hours, until they were both hoarse. Quinn felt like she'd gotten her best friend back, and like a huge weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

Eventually, conversation came around to Quinn's mother, and Quinn's last couple of weeks at home.

"My mom wants me to talk to our priest," Quinn admitted, rolling her eyes. "She thinks that going to confession will make everything better."

"Maybe she's right," Santana said softly and Quinn looked at her in astonishment. "Not about the priest," Santana explained, "but maybe you should to talk to a counsellor. I went to see someone after my Abuela told me she couldn't accept who I was and it really helped."

"I didn't know that," Quinn said, surprised.

"I never told anybody before," Santana told her with a shrug. "Not even Brittany."

"Thank you for telling me," Quinn said shyly. It meant a lot to her that Santana had revealed something so secret to her. "And I'll think about it, I promise."

By this time, the sky outside was getting dark, and Quinn still had a two hour drive back to Yale ahead of her. She really didn't want to leave Santana, but common sense told her that she needed to set off before she was too exhausted to drive safely.

"Where do we go from here?" Quinn asked uncertainly, as Santana walked her to the door. Santana looked thoughtful.

"Back to the start," she said finally. "Will you start over with me?"

Quinn nodded, feeling her emotions well up once again.

"Can I call you tonight when I get back to my dorm?" she asked.

"I'll be waiting," Santana promised.

It was three weeks before Quinn saw Santana again. They talked every day on the phone and Skyped regularly, but both girls were busy making up for the classes they'd missed earlier in the semester, and then it was October and mid-terms were upon them.

Quinn had asked Santana to come up to New Haven for part of fall break, and to her surprise Santana agreed. Quinn was excited to show Santana around the campus, but more than a little nervous about seeing her face to face.

She met her at the train station and after a few awkward moments where neither of them knew the best way to greet the other, Santana leant in and gave Quinn a gentle hug. It felt so good to be in Santana's arms again, and Quinn revelled in the fleeting sensation. The hug was over all too quickly, and then Quinn took Santana's bag, much to her amusement, and led the way back to the car.

"So, this is it," she said, opening the door to her dorm room a short while later. Santana looked around curiously.

"It's very, um, neat," Santana commented, and Quinn giggled.

"Yes, well we don't all keep all of our belongings on the floor," she said teasingly. "Some of us prefer to hang our clothes in the closet so that we can find them when we want to wear them."

Santana responded by rolling her eyes, and she crossed the room to check out the photographs pinned in straight rows on Quinn's bulletin board. Most of the photos had been taken the previous summer and the majority of them were of Santana. A few showed Quinn and Santana together, smiling happily at the camera. Santana had her back to Quinn and so she couldn't see the brunette's expression, but she saw Santana's fingers reach out to touch the photograph in the very center. In the image, Santana stood behind Quinn, with her arms wrapped tightly around her and they looked totally content. It was from their first date in Central Park. Quinn had given a passerby her phone and asked them to take a photo of them.

"You look beautiful in this picture," Santana murmured, and Quinn wasn't sure whether Santana knew she'd spoken out loud so she didn't respond. After a moment, Santana turned and looked at her expectantly. "So, when do I finally get the grand tour?" she asked with a grin. "Although, you go on about it so much I feel like I've seen it all already."

"I do not!" Quinn said blushing. In truth, she had been singing the university's praises a lot over the last few weeks, mainly because she was so desperate for Santana to agree to a visit. Santana just chuckled and Quinn realised it was her turn to be teased. She tossed Santana her jacket. "Okay, Lopez, let's go."

"Lopez?" Santana said with a chuckle. "Sure thing, _Fabray_!"

And grinning, she followed Quinn out of the door.


	21. Chapter 21

_**Author's Note: Here's chapter 21 for you all - hope you like it. Thanks once again for reviewing / following my story, it means a lot! :) Just to let you all know, I may not be able to post chapter 22 until later on tomorrow as I'll be out late.**_

**Chapter Twenty-one: Embers**

For the next couple of hours, Quinn showed Santana everything that Yale had to offer, and Santana had to admit that she could see why Quinn loved the campus so much. The final stop on their tour was the auditorium where Quinn had drama class and Santana was wowed by how much grander it was than their old high school auditorium.

"I'm glad I've seen this place," Santana said as she and Quinn headed off campus to go get something to eat. "Now, instead of wondering what you're doing, I'll be able to picture you." Quinn smiled at Santana's words. Santana thought about her when they weren't together – the thought gave her a warm feeling inside.

"So, how's the counselling going?" Santana asked Quinn over dinner.

"Okay, I think," said Quinn shyly. She hadn't really spoken to anyone about going to therapy, and it was still a difficult subject for her. "We talk about a lot of stuff – my parents, Beth… and you. It feels good to say it out loud, you know." Santana nodded. "And, she's got me keeping a journal and writing down my thoughts, that helps a lot. It keeps me from feeling anxious about, well, everything."

"I'm proud of you," Santana told her, smiling as she squeezed her hand. "You seem happier."

"I am," Quinn realized. "I'm glad you came, Santana. I've missed talking to you."

"We talk all the time," Santana said, sounding amused.

"It's not the same," Quinn said. "You know what I mean."

"I do," Santana agreed. "And I'm glad I came too."

After dinner, the girls went to catch a movie, and Quinn felt relaxed and happy as she sat beside Santana in the darkened theater. Afterwards, they headed back to Quinn's dorm room, talking and laughing about the terrible movie. It was late and Quinn was tired, but she was reluctant to let the day end. As they arrived back at the dorms, Quinn started to feel anxious about the sleeping arrangements, but she decided to take her counsellor's advice and be more open with her thoughts.

"So, I thought you could take my bed and I'll sleep on the floor," she said, as she kicked off her shoes and sat down on the end her bed. "Is that okay with you? I mean, it's only a single but I changed the sheets for you and it's comfortable."

"What about your back?" Santana asked her, concern washing over her features. Quinn shrugged.

"It's fine, the floor's actually good for me," she said. "And it's a lot more comfortable than your couch."

Santana laughed.

"I felt so guilty about making you sleep on it your first night in New York," she admitted. "When I saw how much pain you were in I felt really bad for you. And then you took those painkillers…"

Now it was Quinn's turn to laugh.

"Don't remind me," she said, shaking her head. "I was pretty out of it that night. You must have thought I was a total dork."

"You were cute," Santana said, smiling at the memory. "I liked that you lost your inhibitions a little. I got to see the real you - without filters, you know?"

"Yeah, well the real me is a dork," Quinn joked.

"Nuh-uh," Santana countered. "The real you is a geek, not a dork."

"Oh, like that's so much better!" Quinn pretended to be indignant. With an exaggerated groan, she dragged herself to her feet. "Well, this _geek _is going to go take a shower. Do you want anything before I go?"

"Where are your extra blankets?" Santana asked her. "If you're going to sleep on the floor, the least I can do is make up a bed for you."

"Top shelf in the closet," Quinn told her with a grin.

She grabbed what she needed for her shower and left Santana to it. When she returned a few minutes later, Santana was sitting on her bed reading. For a moment, Quinn thought that was unusual and then she realized what Santana was reading and her heart skipped a beat.

There was an open box on the bed beside Santana, who looked up guiltily when she saw Quinn.

"I'm sorry," Santana said immediately. "I knocked over the box when I was getting the blankets and a bunch of papers fell out. I wasn't going to read them but I couldn't help it. Did you write these?"

Quinn nodded slowly, as she looked at the song lyrics in Santana's hands.

"I started writing in junior year," she admitted, sitting down next to Santana. "When Mr Schue set us the assignment in glee club. I guess it's something I've done ever since."

"Why didn't you say anything?" Santana asked in surprise. Quinn shrugged.

"I didn't really think they were any good," she said simply. "It was just something I did for me."

"Do you have music that goes with them?" Santana asked and Quinn nodded.

"I'm not very good, but I did take piano lessons when I was a kid," she explained. "I'm not great at reading music, but I can do it from memory."

Santana was looking at her in amazement.

"How did I not know this about you?" she said incredulously. Quinn blushed and shrugged. "Tell me about this one?" Santana asked handing over a sheet of paper. Quinn felt a little jolt in her stomach. Of course, it would have to be that particular song that Santana had picked.

"I wrote that one after we broke up," she said in a quiet voice. "It was what I was feeling at the time."

"Will you sing it for me?" Santana asked hopefully. "I want to hear it."

"Without music?" Quinn started to shake her head. "Santana, I can't…"

Santana looked thoughtful for a moment, and then she grinned excitedly.

"Come with me!" she said eagerly, jumping up from the bed and pulling on her shoes.

"But I'm in my pajamas!" protested Quinn. Laughing, Santana tossed her a sweatshirt.

"No buts," she said with a grin.

A few minutes later, walking across the dark campus, Quinn realized where Santana was taking her and she started to protest again.

"We'll get caught!" she said anxiously, but Santana was unperturbed.

"We're not breaking any laws," she said dismissively. They'd reached the entrance to the auditorium and Quinn prayed that the door would be locked and Santana would have to give up, but it opened with a soft click.

Santana ignored Quinn's protests, pulling her towards the stage. Sensing that she was not going to win this battle, Quinn sat down at the piano and ran her fingers lightly across the keys. She took a deep breath.

"I haven't played since I came back to school," she warned. "And I haven't played regularly in years. So, don't expect too much, okay?" Then she opened her mouth and started to sing.

_Feels like I'm slipping  
My intuition's missing  
Can't figure out where I went wrong  
Everything I touch  
Just turns to dust  
Come dig me out  
It's been too long_

_In this skin  
Where nothing quite fits  
In this soul  
Secrets always on my lips  
In this life  
Try to catch my breath  
In this moment  
You're all I've got left_

_Bury my secrets deep  
Memories that I'll keep  
Locked away so tight inside  
Hollow words escape  
Fracture my thoughts  
Leaving me clutching  
__At empty lies_

_In this skin  
Feel so out of touch  
In this soul  
Didn't know it could hurt this much  
In this life  
All I can do to hold on  
In this moment  
Please show me where I belong_

_Didn't you hear me calling out to you?  
Didn't you feel me near?  
Like grains of sand slipping through my fingers  
Can't you make the world disappear?_

_In this skin  
Where nothing quite fits  
In this soul  
Secrets always on my lips  
In this life  
Try to catch my breath  
In this moment  
You're all I've got left_

_In this skin  
Feel so out of touch  
In this soul  
Didn't know it could hurt this much  
In this life  
All I can do to hold on  
In this moment  
Please show me where I belong_

_In this skin  
All there is, is you_

When she finished, she looked up at Santana nervously. She was amazed to see Santana had tears in her eyes.

"Thank you," Santana said simply.

Over the next two days, Quinn continued to show Santana the best that New Haven had to offer, and then it was Saturday morning, and time for her to leave. Quinn drove her to the train station in relative silence, both girls lost in their own thoughts.

She parked the car but neither of them made the move to get out. Quinn was sad that Santana's visit was coming to an end. She'd felt so close to her over the last few days, and it was almost like it used to be. She was happy to have Santana in her life at all, but she didn't want to go back to phone calls and Skype, not knowing when she would see Santana again.

"I'll miss you," she said softly, giving Santana a bittersweet smile. "It's been great having you here."

Santana squeezed her hand. She seemed to be struggling to find the right words to say what she wanted to say. She looked up at Quinn, her dark eyes searching for and holding Quinn's gaze.

Gently, Santana reached out and tucked Quinn's half grown-out bangs behind her ear. Then, she cupped Quinn's cheek in her hand, leaned forward and her seat and brushed her lips lightly across Quinn's.

"Can we take it slow?" she asked, leaving the other question unspoken. There was no need for her to ask whether or not Quinn wanted them to try again. Both girls knew what the answer would be.

Quinn nodded, her eyes shining brightly.

"Whatever you need," she agreed, intertwining her fingers with Santana's.

"Will you come to New York next weekend?" Santana asked her hopefully.

"Of course," Quinn said happily. She gave Santana a hug and breathed in deeply, inhaling the scent of Santana's shampoo. She'd missed that scent so much.

Hand in hand, the girls walked to the station platform. Neither of them spoke but they kept glancing at each other and smiling.

When the train arrived, Santana picked up her bag and sighed.

"I should go," she said reluctantly.

"Can I kiss you goodbye?" Quinn asked shyly. Santana nodded.

Quinn took a step forward and pressed her lips tentatively to Santana's. The kiss was soft and gentle, but full of promise, and Quinn was tingling when they parted. She bit down on her lower lip and grinned.

"I'll see you next weekend," she whispered.

**Song: In This Skin by me :) _(I've been writing music and lyrics for several years now, I wrote the song a couple of years ago, and when I decided to have Quinn sing her own song in this chapter, this was the one that I instantly felt fit into the story - I hope you like it!)_**


	22. Chapter 22

_**Author's Note: Here's today's chapter for you all. Hope you enjoy it! :) In answer to the reviewer who asked if I've put my music online, the answer's no - I sang in our equivalent of glee club and did musical theater throughout high school and I've sung publically occasionally since, but like Quinn in this story, the songs I write are mostly for me. I've shared them with a few special people but never really performed them in public. I hope you guys liked the lyrics though! :)**_

**Chapter Twenty-two: Lights Will Guide You Home**

As promised, Quinn made the two hour trip down to New York the following Friday after her last class was over with. She was nervous about seeing Santana, but in a good way. Since Santana had left New Haven, she'd been all Quinn could think about and she couldn't wait to see her again.

"Hey," she said shyly, when Santana opened the door to the loft with a wide smile on her face. Quinn was suddenly unsure how to act, but Santana gave her a hug and then pulled back to look into her eyes. "I missed you," Quinn told her softly, as Santana reached out to touch her hair.

"Me too," Santana agreed. She seemed reluctant to let go of Quinn, but after a long moment, she intertwined her fingers with Quinn's and led her into the apartment to sit down on the couch.

They sat with their bodies slightly inclined towards each other, knees touching, and still holding hands. Quinn laughed to herself and shook her head.

"It's so silly, I feel like we've just met and we're on a first date," she admitted, blushing slightly. Santana grinned.

"I know," she said, wrinkling her nose in a way that Quinn had always found unbelievably sexy. "I guess we kind of bypassed all of that stuff, huh? I mean, we've kind of gone through our whole relationship backwards. We started out by having sex at Mr Schue's wedding, and we were sharing a bed before we ever even went on a date."

"Not exactly your traditional relationship," Quinn concurred. "I guess we already knew each other so well, and we just moved too fast."

Santana suddenly turned sombre.

"Did we know each other that well?" she asked, softly. "We knew each other as friends, rivals sometimes, but we weren't open with each other the way a couple should be. I had no idea how much you were hurting, and how long you'd felt that way."

"How could you?" Quinn said sadly. "I hadn't really admitted it to myself back then." She sighed, and bit her lip thoughtfully as an idea occurred to her. "So, why don't we try this? Santana, we've been friends for a while now, and I really like you. I'd like to get to know you better, and I wondered if you'd like to have dinner with me sometime?"

Santana chuckled but played along.

"Well, Q, I didn't realize you were into the ladies but you are kind of hot, so yeah, why not? I'll have dinner with you."

"Only kind of hot?" Quinn asked, shaking her head with a giggle. "You sure know how to compliment a girl."

"Well, it's only our first date," Santana said, unrepentant. "I don't want to come across too keen."

Quinn burst out laughing.

Santana insisted on keeping the pseudo first date scenario going and persuaded Quinn to start from the beginning. Quinn found herself standing outside the loft door, trying to suppress a giggle as she knocked.

"Santana," said unnaturally brightly, as the other girl opened the door. "You look lovely. May I come in?"

Santana snorted. "I thought you were a drama major," she snickered, not impressed with Quinn's overacting. Quinn raised an eyebrow at her. "You're the one who started this game," Santana reminded her. Then, she grinned. "Of course you can come in, I'll just be a minute getting ready and then we can go to dinner." Quinn sighed indulgently. It was going to be a long night.

Thankfully, even Santana was not able to keep up her game all night. The girls went to dinner, to the same place Quinn had been with Kurt and Blaine at the start of the summer. To her surprise, the food was amazing – on her last visit she'd been too confused and anxious to notice.

As she sipped her wine after finishing her dinner, Quinn couldn't take her eyes off Santana. Santana was intently studying the dessert menu, and playing with her hair absently. She looked so beautiful in the candlelight, and Quinn longed to touch her. Then Santana looked up and she smiled when she realized that Quinn had been watching her. She reached out and took Quinn's hand across the table.

"I'm having a great time tonight," she said softly. "Thank you." Quinn blushed in response, catching her lower lip between her teeth. Santana groaned. "You're still sexy when you do that," she whispered.

"Sorry," Quinn told her, abashed.

"It's okay," Santana replied gently. "I like it." There was a long moment where neither of them wanted to break their gaze. Santana's thumb was gently stroking the soft skin on the back of Quinn's hand and sending delightful shivers up her arm. Quinn felt herself get very warm, and she swallowed hard as she tried to reign in her emotions.

"So," she said, hoping Santana couldn't hear the slight tremble in her voice. "Do you know what you want for dessert? The cheesecake or the gelato?"

As they left the restaurant to walk back to the loft, Santana once again took hold of Quinn's hand, walking near to her so that their hips bumped every few steps. They walked slowly, revelling in the feeling of closeness. As they reached the door to the building, Santana stopped in her tracks and Quinn stumbled slightly.

"If this were a first date," Santana said, an edge to her voice that Quinn couldn't quite understand, "then I guess we'd probably say goodbye at the door. I wouldn't take you inside." She smiled slightly as she spoke and squeezed Quinn's hand. Quinn nodded.

"Yeah, you wouldn't want to appear too forward," she agreed. "You have a reputation to protect."

"But that doesn't mean I wouldn't expect a goodnight kiss," Santana continued, her eyes sparkling. "And if someone was looking to have a second date with me, then she'd need to make sure the first kiss was pretty special."

Quinn took the hint. She wet her lips in anticipation as she leaned in and grazed Santana's mouth with her own. A shiver ran through her at the contact and she wrapped her arms around Santana, as the brunette pressed her body against Quinn's and tangled her long fingers into her hair. Santana's tongue swept across Quinn's lips and she obediently opened her mouth to allow her access. Their tongues met and Quinn felt a surge of electricity move through her. Santana's tongue explored her mouth, stroking and caressing, then retreating to allow Quinn to do the same. Santana pressed Quinn's back up against the wall of the building as she continued to kiss her deeply and rhythmically until eventually they parted, gasping for air.

"How was that for a first kiss?" Quinn asked with a giggle.

Santana smiled.

"Perfect."

Once inside the apartment, Quinn and Santana slipped, without discussion, back into friend mode. Apart from stealing the occasional glance at each other and blushing at the memory of their kiss, they remained entirely platonic, as Quinn helped Santana make up a bed for the night on the floor of her sleeping area.

They were just finishing up when they heard the sound of Rachel, Kurt, and Blaine coming home. Santana had explained earlier that night that the boys often met up with Rachel to escort her home after the show on the weekends.

Quinn felt apprehensive about seeing her friends again for the first time in several weeks and she tensed up at the sound of their voices in the living area. Santana understood and gave her shoulders a reassuring squeeze.

"It's okay," she murmured. "They all love you. They've been looking forward to seeing you all week."

With a deep breath, Quinn stepped out through the curtains into the living area. Rachel squealed and ran to give her a hug.

"I've missed you so much," she gushed happily. "Look at you, you look good."

"I feel good," Quinn agreed. "Hi Blaine, Kurt." She gave them a sheepish smile. Both guys hugged her, and Kurt squeezed her hand affectionately.

"It's good to see you, Quinn," Kurt said cheerfully. "We've missed you around here."

Santana had been standing back whilst Quinn greeted her friends but she stepped forward and took Quinn's hand, lacing their fingers together.

The gesture was not missed by her friends and Kurt beamed at them excitedly.

"Are you guys back together?" he asked, bouncing on his heels in anticipation.

Quinn looked at Santana and smiled.

"We're taking it slow," she explained. "But, yes, we're working on it." She needn't have worried about her friends' reactions; from the looks on their faces, they were all thrilled.

Later that evening, Quinn followed Rachel into the kitchen as she went to open a bottle of wine.

"I didn't get to tell you how great you were on your opening night," Quinn said, leaning against the counter as Rachel handed her a glass. "You did amazing. I've read some of your reviews and that seems to be the popular opinion too."

Rachel tried to look modest, but she couldn't stop the smile that spread over her features.

"Thank you, Quinn," she said simply. "It means a lot coming from you, after everything. Do you remember the conversation we had in junior year, about me being destined for bigger things?"

"When I was trying to keep you away from Finn," Quinn said, shaking her head. "I meant what I said though, I always knew you were going to be a star."

"I didn't," Rachel admitted. "I mean, I knew that I was good, but I didn't know if I'd be able to make it. I remember thinking though– if Quinn Fabray says I'm good, then it must be true. You weren't exactly giving me compliments every week, you know. I told myself, if someone who hates me thinks that I'm good, then I guess I should listen to her."

"I never hated you, Rachel," Quinn said softly. "I was jealous of you. You knew exactly where you wanted to go and you were on your way to making that dream come true. I had no idea what I wanted back then. Sometimes I still don't. Except for Santana of course. She's the one thing I am sure of."

"You were right to stop me giving up on my dreams. I mean, you could have been a little nicer about it, but still…" She broke off and chuckled. Then she sighed. "Are you sure you know what you're doing with Santana, Quinn? Kurt told me what you were like when he went to see you in Lima, and to be honest Santana wasn't much better. I know we haven't always gotten along but I feel like the two of you are my best friends, and I can't see either of you get hurt like that again." Her brown eyes were full of concern as she spoke, and Quinn gave her words careful consideration before she replied.

"I love Santana," she said softly. "I think I've always loved her. Even when we used to fight in high school, I was always so jealous when I saw her with Brittany. I used to tell myself it was because I wanted a friendship like theirs, but that wasn't true. I just wanted to be with her."

"Then be with her," Rachel said with a grin. "She's been so happy this past week, and a happy Santana is very good for those of us who have to live with her." Quinn laughed, as Rachel linked arms with her and they headed back into the living room to join their friends.

That night, Quinn snuggled down in Santana's bed, whilst Santana slept on the floor. Quinn didn't mind that. As sure as she was that she wanted to be with Santana, she didn't want to rush into anything this time. She wanted to take her time and savor the relationship. The physical side would come.

She lay on her stomach and watched Santana wriggling around trying to get comfortable. Santana rolled onto her side so she was facing Quinn, and smiled.

"I like seeing you before I go to sleep," she murmured, stifling a yawn. Quinn nodded.

"Me too," she whispered happily, before closing her eyes.


	23. Chapter 23

_**Author's Note: Here's chapter 23 for you all, I'm hoping to post chapter 24 later today... but in the meantime, hope you all enjoy reading this one! :) **_

**Chapter Twenty-three: We've Got Tonight**

Quinn looked at herself critically in the mirror on the inside of her bedroom door, and picked at a loose thread on her pink dress. She'd changed her outfit three times already and she would have considered changing again if it weren't for the fact that it would make her late to meet Santana's train.

She'd been all set to go to New York, for the third weekend in a row, but Santana had called her the night before to say that she'd managed to get the weekend off from work, and she'd like to come to Yale instead.

_"I want us to spend some one-on-one time," she'd explained. "It's always so difficult for us to be alone here."_

Quinn had tried not to read too much into Santana's words, but she was excited for her visit nonetheless, and she wanted to look good for her girlfriend. Over the past few weeks, Quinn and Santana had grown steadily closer but they still hadn't taken that next step to sharing a bed. Quinn felt ready, more than ready; whenever Santana kissed her or touched her she felt like her whole body was on fire, but she didn't want to push for more until she was sure it was what Santana wanted too. With one last check of her lipstick, Quinn grabbed her bag and hurried out the door.

She was late and the train had already arrived. Santana stood waiting for her, and Quinn rushed to give her a breathless hug.

"I'm so sorry, traffic was terrible," she explained, giving Santana a quick kiss. "I didn't mean to keep you waiting."

"It's fine, Q," Santana said dismissively. "It gave me time to get you these." She produced a bunch of yellow roses from behind her back. Quinn grinned.

"You remembered I said I liked yellow roses," she said happily, running her fingers over the velvety petals.

"Of course I remembered," said Santana, leaning in to give Quinn another kiss. This one was deeper and left Quinn tingling from head to toe.

As they walked back to the car, Quinn brought up the subject of dinner.

"I was thinking we could go to this new Mexican place downtown," she said, pausing to inhale the scent of her roses and grinning. "A girl in my literature class said it's supposed to be really good."

"Do they do take out?" Santana asked, climbing into the passenger seat of Quinn's car, "because I was kind of hoping we could stay in tonight." She ran her eyes appreciatively over Quinn's legs as she got into the driver's seat, and Quinn was left in no doubt about Santana's meaning. "That's if you want to," Santana added, a note of uncertainty in her voice.

Quinn smiled. "Take out sounds perfect."

A few hours later, Quinn had taken the remains of their dinner out to the trash. She headed back up to her dorm room where Santana was waiting for her. Santana had turned out the lights and candles glowed and flickered around the room. Quinn smiled as Santana took her by the hand and pulled her down to sit beside her on the bed.

"Are you sure you're ready?" Quinn asked fretfully. Santana nodded.

"Are you?" she asked, taking Quinn's hand in hers and running the pad of her thumb across the sensitive skin on the inside of Quinn's wrist.

"More than ready," Quinn admitted, and her breathing hitched as Santana planted a tender kiss on her neck.

"Good," murmured Santana breathlessly, "because I haven't been able to stop thinking about this all day, and I think if you'd said no I might have actually exploded."

Quinn kissed her then, softly at first but quickly growing deeper and more passionate. Their tongues met and danced in and out of each other's mouths, as their hands dared to touch and explore over their clothes. Quinn lay back on her bed and Santana followed her down, lying next to her without breaking their kiss.

Santana's hand ran down the side of Quinn's body, gently stroking and caressing over her hip and down her thigh. Quinn's hand was exploring beneath Santana's shirt, cupping her breast through her bra and squeezing gently, causing Santana to moan into her mouth.

Quinn felt her desire grow and she wanted to feel her skin pressed against Santana's. She tugged impatiently at the hem of Santana's shirt, and Santana sat back to pull it off, throwing it carelessly onto the floor. She leaned over Quinn, giving her an excellent view of her full breasts, spilling over the cups of her bra. Quinn reached up to unhook the clasp of Santana's bra and peel off the offending item that was impeding her view of her gorgeous girlfriend. She captured Santana's aroused nipple in her mouth, and swirled her tongue over the hard peak, delighting in hearing Santana's mewl of pleasure.

Quinn ran her fingers beneath Santana's underwear, her hands caressing Santana's shapely rear, squeezing gently as she slipped the panties down over the brunette's hips. Santana wriggled against her in a most enjoyable way as she kicked off the last of her clothing.

Santana pulled Quinn into a sitting position, and straddled her legs, lifting Quinn's dress off over her head. She bent her head to capture Quinn's lips in a long and passionate kiss, as her fingertips sought out Quinn's most sensitive places to stroke – below her ear, her right knee, her collarbone – Santana knew Quinn's body so well that she knew exactly how to make Quinn gasp and shiver.

Quinn lost herself to the sensations Santana's talented fingers were conjuring within her. Santana divested Quinn of her bra, and began to work Quinn's panties down her legs, planting soft kisses against Quinn's flushed skin on the way down. When Quinn was naked, Santana looked at her with such desire that it took Quinn's breath away.

"You're so beautiful," Santana murmured, her hands stroking lightly over Quinn's breast and down over her stomach to her hips and then her thighs. She trailed her fingers to the apex of Quinn's thighs and Quinn groaned appreciatively as Santana ran a single finger between her legs. Her free hand moved to cup Quinn's breast, squeezing gently as she arched into her hand.

"Oh God, that feels good," whispered Quinn, as Santana came close to the bundle of nerves at her center. "I've… missed you… so much," she panted. Her hands grasped at the blankets on her bed and clung on tightly, as Santana continued to caress her intimately.

Without breaking the contact, Santana lowered her body over Quinn's and captured her lips in a passionate kiss, before moving lower to suckle at her pulse point. She rained kisses over Quinn's chest as Quinn's breathing grew shallow and erratic, the waves of pleasure beginning to build deep with her core.

Quinn let go of the sheets and trailed her hands over Santana's breasts, circling her nipples before moving lower, delighting in the softness and warmth of Santana's skin, and loving the way Santana groaned into her ear as Quinn's slender fingers reached their destination between her thighs. Quinn gasped and she bit down on her lower lip as she realized how wet and ready Santana was for her touch.

"Oh God," Quinn whimpered, again, as the swell of pleasure grew exponentially, and she started to writhe beneath Santana's ministrations. Her whole body trembled with the force of her orgasm and she clung onto Santana hard enough to leave bruises, crying out as she tumbled into ecstasy, taking Santana with her seconds later.

Santana collapsed onto the bed beside her, both girls panting and trembling. Quinn couldn't stop smiling as her inner walls continued to contract rhythmically, and she closed her eyes, losing herself in the waves of pleasure that flooded her body. She continued to stroke Santana's inner thigh absently, not wanting to lose the contact.

When she opened her eyes, Santana's gaze was fixed upon her face, and Quinn was surprised to see her dark eyes filled with tears.

"Baby, what is it?" she whispered anxiously, stroking Santana's tousled hair.

Santana kissed her gently, and Quinn felt Santana's tears fall onto her own face.

"I love you," Santana sniffed, burying her head into the crook of Quinn's neck. Quinn gathered Santana into her arms and clung to her tightly, kissing the top of her head tenderly.

"I love you too," she murmured. "I love you so much." She continued to caress Santana's back, trailing her hands over the smooth, supple muscles, from her shoulder blades to the base of her spine. She felt Santana shiver against her, and then it was her turn to tremble as Santana ran her tongue lightly over the sensitive spot behind her ear.

Quinn felt her desire flare once again. She wanted to touch and taste every inch of her beautiful girlfriend and she started to kiss her way down Santana's body. She heard Santana gasp as she swirled her tongue into the brunette's naval, and felt her quiver as her hair brushed softly over Santana's sensitized skin.

When she reached the apex of Santana's thighs, she paused to look up at the other girl, delighting to see her flushed skin and her chest rising and falling with quick, shallow breaths. Santana's eyes were closed as she revelled in the sensations Quinn was evoking.

Quinn planted a tiny kiss on Santana's inner thigh and giggled as Santana's hips bucked of their own volition. When her tongue gently explored further, Quinn heard Santana mumbling her name over and over. She held onto Santana's hips as she continued to kiss and taste her most intimate places, feeling tremors of her own as Santana climaxed against her, calling out her name.

Later, Quinn and Santana lay in each other's arms, their hands still idly exploring and caressing, as they came down from their love-making. Quinn gazed sleepily into Santana's dark eyes, her flawless face illuminated by the last vestiges of flickering candlelight.

"I've missed this," she said softly. "I've hated going to sleep on my own these past couple of months. It's too quiet without you here."

Santana chuckled under her breath.

"Are you saying I snore?" she asked teasingly. "Because you, Ms. Q, do not have a leg to stand on; I've never heard someone talk in their sleep as much as you do."

"I do?" Quinn was surprised. She lifted her head briefly, but she was too comfortable and content, so she rested it against Santana's shoulder and resumed playing with Santana's hair. Santana's hand was causing pleasurable sensations as she stroked lightly over Quinn's hip and rear.

"No one's ever told you that before?" Now it was Santana's turn to be astonished. Quinn blushed.

"I've never really spent the night with anyone else," she admitted. "I mean, not the whole night, waking up together the next morning."

"What about Professor What's-his-name?" Santana asked, her fingers straying briefly between Quinn's thighs.

"He never stayed over after," Quinn confessed. "And I never really wanted him to. Until you came along, I never really wanted that at all. I never understood going to sleep with someone else and then waking up with them, because they're the last thing you want to see at night and the first thing you want to see in the morning."

"But now you do?" Santana asked hopefully.

"Now I do," Quinn confirmed with a nod. Santana's fingers found their way to Quinn's center once more and she swallowed hard. "But now I also know there are some pretty good reasons to stay awake," Quinn added with a gasp, before closing her eyes and letting the sensations of her girlfriend stroking her intimately take over once more.


	24. Chapter 24

_**Author's Note: Well, as promised, here is chapter 24... enjoy! :)**_

**Chapter Twenty-four: Acceptance**

Quinn Fabray was happy. As she caught sight of herself in the mirror on her vanity unit, she couldn't help but grin at her reflection. Behind her, tangled in the sheets of her rumpled bed, her beautiful girlfriend lay sleeping. It was the early hours of Sunday morning and the girls had not left Quinn's dorm room since Friday night except for comfort breaks and emergency food runs. Quinn had woken up thirsty, and she'd reluctantly torn herself away from Santana to get a bottle of water from her fridge.

Quinn put down the water bottle and opened the top drawer of her dresser, pulling out a crumpled envelope bearing the Columbia University logo. She pulled out the manila paper and held it thoughtfully in her hands for several seconds. Her acceptance letter to the university had arrived in her mailbox at Yale during the time she was back in Ohio and it had weighed on Quinn's mind ever since.

She wanted nothing more than to be with Santana twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, but she knew that it would mean a lot of pressure on their relationship, and she didn't want to risk losing Santana ever again. It was too soon for them to take that step; Quinn knew that in her heart. When she'd applied to the university back in September, she'd been doing it for all the wrong reasons. She'd rushed headlong into proving her feelings for Santana, because she was trying to assuage her guilt over sleeping with Puck. Her counsellor had helped her to see that over the past several weeks.

Quinn knew that she had a tendency to cling onto those things she wanted so tightly that she risked smothering them. She didn't want that to happen with Santana. She wanted to give their relationship a chance to grow and flourish on its own. She had no doubt that one day, and hopefully soon, she would be ready to make that move, but it wasn't time yet. She took the letter and tucked it beneath a pile of papers in her dresser drawer; then she climbed back into bed beside Santana and cuddled up against her.

The movement stirred Santana who stretched lithely as Quinn watched appreciatively.

"Whatya doin'?" Santana asked with a yawn, rubbing her eyes.

"Ssh," Quinn whispered, brushing stray strands of mahogany hair from Santana's forehead. "I was thirsty, that's all. It's the middle of the night, go back to sleep."

"Nuh-uh," Santana murmured, her lips brushing lightly over Quinn's and eliciting a little shiver down Quinn's spine. "You woke me up, and I don't want to go back to sleep."

Quinn giggled.

"You're insatiable," she said, shaking her head.

Santana just laughed in response.

"I have to leave in... eleven hours," she said, pausing mid-sentence to check the time on the illuminated digits of Quinn's alarm clock. "I can sleep in my US history class next week, I don't want to waste time now." And with that, she turned her attention back to Quinn's body, until Quinn was gasping and writhing between her, chanting her name.

All too soon, it was time for Santana to leave and Quinn was saying a tearful goodbye at the train station. The girls kissed intimately and held on to each other until the low rumble of the train's engine as it prepared to depart forced them to let go of each other.

Quinn had not even made it back to her car before her phone vibrated in her pocket and she took it out to read Santana's message.

_I miss you already. Call me later… and remember what you promised me on the open mike night? Well, it's time to deliver xxxxx_

Quinn chuckled and blushed, remembering what she had whispered into Santana that night when her girlfriend had asked her if she'd talk dirty to her on the phone. Laughing to herself as she thought about what she could say that would make Santana as red as she'd been that night, Quinn headed back to her dorm.

"What are you doing for Thanksgiving?" Santana asked her over Skype a few days later. Quinn shrugged.

"I haven't really thought about it," she admitted. "I'm going back to Lima for Christmas, but I really don't want to go home for Thanksgiving as well. My mom's still giving me a hard time about going to see our priest." She rolled her eyes and Santana smiled sympathetically. "I know she's worried about me," Quinn continued with a sigh, "and I _really _wish I could tell her that I'm okay, that I'm happy, but she'd never accept it."

Santana looked thoughtful. She'd been incredibly understanding to Quinn about her reluctance to tell her mother about their relationships and Quinn was grateful for that. Quinn's family bonds were already so fractured, and she knew that Santana had no doubt that what she'd told her was true – she would lose her mom altogether if she were honest with her about who she was.

"Well, Rachel, Kurt and Blaine will be gone but I'll be here," Santana said after a moment's hesitation. "I have to work either side, but I have Thanksgiving off, so you could come down to New York. I'm not up to a Thanksgiving dinner with all the trimmings but I can make a mean turkey sandwich."

Quinn laughed at the image.

"How can I resist such a tempting offer?" she said, shaking her head.

Thanksgiving morning dawned bright and cold, and the clouds held a definite promise of snow as Quinn set off to New York. By the time she arrived at the loft, a couple of inches of powdery white flakes had fallen, and Quinn shivered against the cold as she hurried inside.

As she knocked on the door to the loft, she could smell a delicious Thanksgiving dinner that must have been coming from one of the neighboring apartments. There was a strange scuffling sound from inside the loft before Santana opened the door halfway, looking strangely ruffled.

"I thought you were going to call when you were about twenty minutes away," she said, a slight frown marring her pretty features. Quinn felt a twinge of uncertainty.

"I would have," she explained, "but the snow's coming down pretty heavy and I just wanted to get off the road as quickly as possible."

Santana's expression relaxed. She knew how paranoid Quinn was about safe driving ever since her accident.

"So, did you, um, have a good journey?" Santana asked her absently, glancing over her shoulder into the apartment. Quinn was starting to feel uneasy.

"Santana, what's going on?" she said nervously. "Let me come in."

Santana checked over her shoulder again, and then inexplicably beamed.

"Sure thing, Q," she agreed amiably, opening the door wider and stepping aside.

The reason for her stalling was immediately apparent to Quinn. The loft had been festooned with Thanksgiving decorations. Twinkling fairy lights fell in curtains, candles covered every surface, and the kitchen table had been set for a lavish dinner party. Rachel, Kurt, and Blaine all stood by the table grinning at Quinn, pleased with themselves for pulling off their surprise.

"What are you guys doing here?" Quinn asked, as Santana wrapped her arms around her from behind and kissed her cheek. "Not that I'm not thrilled to see you but Santana said you'd all be back in Lima."

"I lied," Santana murmured into her ear with a chuckle. "We wanted to surprise you."

Quinn shook her head, her eyes sparkling with wonder.

"But why?" she wanted to know.

"Because we're a family," Rachel explained, beaming at Quinn. "All of us. We love each other unconditionally, we accept each other's flaws, undoubtedly irritating as some of them may be," she shot Santana a look and Santana snorted derisively. "You're part of our family, Quinn, and we love you and accept you."

Quinn's eyes filled with tears at Rachel's words, and she opened her mouth but couldn't think of the words to express how she felt. Instead, she grinned at her friends as Santana wiped away the tears that fell down her cheeks.

She took a deep breath to pull herself together, and looked around at the beautifully decorated loft. Then, she turned around in Santana's arms without breaking the embrace. Smiling at her girlfriend, Quinn kissed her slowly and deeply, not caring that their friends were watching.

"Thank you," she whispered to Santana when they parted. "I just have one question though," she continued in a louder voice, so that the others would be able to hear. "Who's cooking the turkey, because Rachel's a vegan and I'm looking at the girl who doesn't even know how to make scrambled eggs?"

Her friends chuckled as Santana pouted and pretended to be offended.

"You're safe, Q," Santana promised, planting a kiss on the tip of her nose as their friends snickered. "Lady-Hummel's been channelling Martha Stuart since about six o'clock this morning."

That night Quinn lay in bed in Santana's arms, feeling safe and warm as they watched the snow continue to fall through the window.

"You're amazing, you know?" Quinn said softly and she heard Santana chuckle behind her. Quinn rolled over to meet her gaze.

"I know," Santana said unabashed. "But I still like hearing it. Did you have a good day?"

"It was almost perfect," Quinn acknowledged, smiling softly.

"_Almost_ perfect?" Santana queried, frowning slightly.

"Uh-huh," Quinn nodded, her fingers twirling strands of Santana's silky hair idly.

"Why only almost perfect?" Santana pressed. Quinn sighed indulgently.

"Because," she explained, "when I was a little girl, after we'd eaten Thanksgiving dinner my dad used to go around the table and ask us all what we were thankful for that year. You haven't asked me what I'm thankful for."

"So, what _are_ you thankful for?" Santana asked her.

Quinn giggled.

"Well, I'm thankful I got straight As in my mid-terms," she began, "and I'm _really _thankful that Rachel and Kurt didn't let you anywhere near the kitchen today. I'm thankful I didn't have to go back to Lima and spend Thanksgiving with my mom, and I'm thankful we didn't let Rachel play any of her musical Berry-family games tonight."

"Is that all?" Santana asked her pointedly. Quinn shrugged.

"I guess so, unless you can think of anything else I should be thankful for," she said with a smirk.

Santana captured her mouth in a passionate kiss as her fingers trailed up the inside of Quinn's thigh.

"Oh, I can think of a few things," she promised. Quinn laughed out loud.

"I love you, Santana," she whispered happily into her girlfriend's ear. "And thank you, for today, for everything."

"You're welcome," murmured Santana, her lips brushing against Quinn's collarbone. "And I love you too."

**The End...?**

_**Author's Note (2): So, this is the end of this particular part of my Quinntana story. When I started writing this I had a clear end point in mind, as, to me this story was all about Quinn's acceptance of herself, but I'm already thinking about writing a sequel as there are a number of other avenues I want to explore with the two of them, for example, what would happen if Quinn ever did tell her mom about Santana? How would Brittany react to the relationship? How would Quinn and Santana cope with living together full-time? And, what would happen if Shelby and Beth came back into Quinn's life? I'm not saying I'm definitely going to go down all of these roads, but they're the ideas I'm currently working through in my mind.  
**_

_**Update: I've now started posting chapters of my follow up story, titled "Becoming Quinn Fabray" - if you liked this story, please check out my new one! Thanks in advance!**_


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